Scottish Football Reminiscences and Sketches

by David Drummond Bone

I would not dare to attempt a pen-and-ink sketch. It would fail in its effect. It's all very good for you fellows who have no soul for feminine loveliness to talk about girls, like babies, being all pretty much alike, but you are wrong—entirely wrong. Jenny was, in fine, a "bonnie, bonnie lass," and scores of young fellows, I know, would have gone considerably out of their way to have received "ae blink o' her bonnie black e'e." Emma, although scarcely so tall, was very like her sister, only shorter in the temper.

After sundry matches at the field, Jack Black used to take a few of his companions up to the Hillhouse, and the young ladies received them graciously—congratulating them when they won their matches, and "chaffing" them unmercifully when they lost.

There were at least three suitors for the hand of Jenny, but one of them resided in London, and the other at Skyview Villa, a couple of hundred yards from Hillhouse. It can be easily imagined that the local man had the advantage in the courtship, being, as the special correspondent always prides himself in adding to his communications, "on the spot."

Bob Lambert was, to be sure, a welcome visitor at Jenny's residence, and a fast companion of her brother Jack, and what was more, Bob was quite a favourite with the old Colonel, who admired his fine appearance in the football field, and the brilliant manner in which he could "back-up" when that was needed to win a game. Bob, I must confess, was really a nice-looking fellow, with black curly hair, and a good broad chest. His features were well formed, and he possessed penetrating dark grey eyes. There was one thing, however, which told against Bob in many ways, and that was his hasty temper. He could brook no rival in his position as the best forward in the Black-and-Whites, and a word or two from the captain at a practice game was sure to upset him. He sometimes, in fact, took the pet altogether.

Once, when playing a Cup Tie with the Athletic Park, he met his match in Charlie Walker (another of Jenny's sweethearts), who played at half-back, and the work done all through that eventful match was seen between the pair. Talk about coming in contact with "mother earth," why that was positively child's play when the two met.

Walker was also a powerful fellow, and it was a case of Greek meeting Greek. "Bumping at Oxford," to use an aquatic term, why it was nothing! At one time Bob was seen tossed up in the air as if from the horns of an infuriated bull, and at another Charlie was observed lying on the field at Bob's feet. What did they care about the ball being fifty yards off? Not a straw, so long as they tackled and kept each other away from it. "That's not football," says one, "it is horse play." "Never mind about football in a Cup Tie," says another, "let the heaviest team win; go into the fellow." "Oh! gentlemen, gentlemen, fie, fie, Association Football is an amateur game, and as long as I play it," said the captain, "there shall be no cruelty done on either side."

Little did the spectators know the real cause of the inordinate tackling done by Bob and Charlie, but the secret soon came out. The pair had previously been rivals for the hand of Jenny Black, and Bob was looked upon as the winner. At least Charlie had not been seen at the Black's Villa for two or three months, and before this he always made it his house of call. But what about Harry Carts, Jenny's English sweetheart? Why, I had almost forgotten him.

A team of Cantabs had played the Black-and-Whites just a year previously, and Harry was one of them. He had been invited to spend an evening at the Colonel's house, and had fallen desperately in love with the bonnie Scotch lassie. Bob was also specially invited and was present that evening, and although trying to be as affable as possible to the friendly stranger and opponent, could barely hide his jealousy when the gallant English forward kissed the lovely girl's ruby lips in a game at forfeits.

Bob said nothing about it to Jenny, but Emma, the youngest sister, whispered to her brother Jack that Bob's eyes had a wild look that evening. The matter, however, was soon forgotten, as Harry Carts left Glasgow the next evening for London, after his gallant team had played a drawn game with the Scotch Black-and-Whites—the first one ending in that way, be it observed, that had ever been played between them and an English team on Scottish ground in the memory of the proverbial "oldest inhabitant."

Harry Carts, to give him his due, was one of the best Association football players ever England produced. When Mr. C. W. Alcock and a few choice spirits in London, it is true, first opened the eyes of many football players to the value of the Association rules, and inaugurated the Football Association in 1863, Harry was a mere child. Appearing at college, however, he soon showed a liking for the dribbling game, and never lost a moment in doing his best to acquire everything he was likely to know about it.