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Doubly true: Liverpool were matchless

DOUBLY TRUE; LIVERPOOL WERE MATCHLESS

Everton 1, Liverpool 3

By Leslie Edwards
This match was won and lost in the no-man’s land of soccer, and fittingly Military Medalist W.H. Jones at right half-back was the most at home there at Goodison Park. That he had on his left the phlegmatic England centre half, Laurie Hughes, and still further on his left the effervescing Bob Paisley meant that Liverpool’s intermediate line was truly back-breaking. Only when Fielding and Wainwright took on the role of extra defenders did Everton hold the avalanche or art and craft and punch which threatened them from the start. When these two Everton forwards dared to go forward Jones and Paisley were crowned kings of the open spaces –and did they use them. Jones is no showman, but even his self effacing style could not keep from our constant notice his command of all situations. He volleyed or half volleyed his passes on slippery turf or headed them of merely nudged the ball through so accurately, and so persistently one rates this as the best of all his games. Hughes never beaten, if sometimes caused to play for safely and Paisley (who did not handle once by the way) were little less brilliant.

Good Neighbours
The wonder was Liverpool did not win 6-1. Three up (Stubbins and Balmer, two) at the interval, they might have scored offender in the second half if they had wanted to make a bigger meal of friends and neighbours. This disinclination to “rub it in” might have been costly. There was the penalty award, which Wainwright used so wastefully, not even getting the ball on the target frame; there was the late goal by Eglington which gave the football world a wrong notion of what happened. Well, the 71,000 present have no illusions and some of them began to voice their anxiety about the Everton crisis. In rating Liverpool on this form, we are liable to place them too high. But they cannot do more than win by a wholly satisfying display in which they were the proverbial mile ahead. All the goals moves were well worked and completed, though it can be argued that O’Neill might have saved Balmer’s downwards header. Tracing the goals further back than the head or foot contact one sensed that in all cases the scorer stood all alone unhampered and unhurried and perfectly placed to make the move of his choice in his own time.

Sharp and True
Liverpool as I saw them, played with the greater conviction. Their passing was sharp and true. They understood one another and moves into position as though puppets in the hands of an expert. Many of Everton’s passes were so tentative and without speed they never reached the mark. One gained the impression that Everton progressed laboriously and laterally until Liverpool came to grips with them at the business end of the field. Everton’s attack travelled pedestrianly at great effort; Liverpool’s in two or three and thrusting passes were there in a thrice. It was good football to watch but in its stages Everton were dead but would not lie down. For this we had to thank the unrelenting efforts of Farrell. Surely no captain does more than he to get his side out of the rut? Buckle too, was noticed making Spicer life a nuisance, though many of the big Buckle shots were not timed correctly. Fielding was best in the first half and so was Wainwright. As they fell from prominence so did Liverpool rise. It needed no inspired moments from Liddell (still doubtful whether he was fit at noon) to carry Liverpool. Liddell almost sat this one out,” still did enough to belong to a forward line which could scarcely be faulted.

No Sinecure
In such circumstances anyone at centre half in the Everton side had no sinecure. This time it was the turn of Jack Humphreys who played well, but the defence was at fault three times in its covering and all the gallantry of Farrell, Grant and Humphreys counted for little when goals fattened the debit column. Summing up in a sentence, it might be said that Liverpool last Saturday were match-less. But Everton as ever, continued on the receiving end without giving way to ill temper. And the Anfield cry is still “Good old Jack-kay).”

Copyright - The Liverpool Daily Post - Transcribed by http://www.bluecorrespondent.co.nr

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