Empty of goals and emnity

A Glorious Exhibition

By Leslie Edwards

This match, so empty of goals and enmity, was on the other hand, admirably full of everything the spectators likes. I have never seen a better between the clubs. Most of us, I daresay, went home purring not because either club has escaped defeat, but because the game was wholly satisfying in its football content, and because the sides never once fell foul of each other in the stress of fierce encounter. It was a game of two phases. Liverpool’s in a first half fought at tremendous speed; Everton’s rather unexpectedly in the second half when they contrived chances to win once Liverpool faded and the Everton right wing came into the game with a flourish and an almost unending flow of centres. Difficult as it is, in a match of this kind, to name the day’s best. I believe Balmer has never before played more brilliantly and in face of Liverpool’s sorry tale of good shots – almost to be numbered on the thumb of one hand-one is left with the thought that his play merits superlatives. He showed more devil than usual and, for once, every finesse he attempted found the right football card in the right hand. Not surprising the Liverpool inside forwards for one half at least, progressed splendidly despite the strange ineffectiveness for the most part of Liddell and Payne. During Liverpool’s best spell too, Baron played better than I have ever seen him play and all three half-backs formed the base from which the ball went out unceasingly to the attack in a most acceptable way.

Stubbins on Sixpence
Stubbins with the best sixpenny piece dribble he has ever produced and normally, this is one of his forces was responsible for his side’s best chance of the day, and Liddell was luckless enough to hit a post when all seemed set for the crowning touch to what would have been a wonderful piece of attacking. How the initiative was taken up by Everton and what they did with it is the story of the second half. Almost from the time it began Everton sensed that Liverpool were not maintaining their pace, and when Paisley received a knock and remained on the field, though plainly not fit, Everton began to lay on heavily on their right wing. Until then McIntosh, a man with a great footballing brain, had been the man Liverpool feared most. Wainwright and Corr began to get the measure of Paisley and Lambert at a time when the sun and Liverpool’s chances were lowering and Eglington who seemed overcome at finding himself alone with the ball and only Sidlow’s back netting to hit, missed the easiest chance of several which came his side’s way. Fielding always best when Everton are on top, saved his made to measure passes for this vital phrase of a great match.

Jones On Top
In Everton’s spell on top, Jones (who had occasionally been beaten by the ruse of Stubbins feint to go one way while moving in the opposite direction) directed operations in the comfort of a man who knew the worst defensively, was over and Lello, who rivals Paisley for doggediness and refusal to be beaten in the tackle or in the clinch was a fine aide and so was Farrell whose first half had been excellent too. Admittingly Lambert’s overweight of work who Paisley was not moving well in the game, all full backs had a good match, particularly and Burnett with flying catches and one grand save from Baron and Sidlow (on the floor when he stopped Wainwright’s shot) were faultless goalkeepers. This happened to be a game easy to handle, but that detracts little from the work of Mr., Holt, of Rochdale, who except for the most minor blemish took charge and took referring honours. He would be too much to expect all Everton-Liverpool matches to reach the standard of football and of deportment attained by this, but the twenty-two professional footballers can make it a great exhibition of thrilling football, rather than a venture with football continually ruined is a fine tribute to the modern player and his desire to observe the spirit and the letter of the law. More power to them all.

Copyright - The Liverpool Daily Post  - Transcribed by

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