The Gallant Pioneers: Rangers 1872 (23 page)

Kinning Park closed for good on 26 February 1887 with a game between the ancients and the moderns. The ancients included players such as Tom and Alick Vallance, George Gillespie, Sam Ricketts and William ‘Daddy’ Dunlop. Moses McNeil (seated second row, far left, with cane) attended but did not play. The moderns won 3–2.

Rangers were left to see out the last three months of the 1886–87 season as nomads, with ‘home’ games played at venues such as Cathkin Park, Hampden and Inchview (Partick Thistle’s ground at the time, in the Whiteinch district), while their soon-to-be near neighbours at the other end of Copland Road, Whitefield, offered their own Whitefield Park ground for training purposes, which was gratefully accepted. Throughout the spring and summer work continued unabated on the new ground, while the Rangers committee set about organising a grand opening that would later lead the Scottish News to comment: ‘The usually quiet district of Ibrox has never before witnessed such an assemblage.’7
  The Rangers committee succeeded in persuading Preston North End to travel north to open their new ground. The visitors demanded a £50 appearance fee, a fair deal for Rangers on the back of eventual gate receipts of £340. The Lancashire side, under manager Major William Sudell, became known as the Invincibles, with a team consisting predominantly of Scots who were among the first professionals in the fledgling sport. Players such as Nick and Jimmy Ross, David Russell, John Goodall and Geordie Drummond earned a fortune – comparatively speaking – as Preston won the first English League championship in 1888–89 without losing a game and clinched the double by going all the way in the FA Cup without conceding a goal. They also won the League in 1890, so Rangers fans were watching legends in the making as they turned up at Ibrox that August afternoon.
  Rangers were keen to show off their new ground to a select audience ahead of the formal opening and 150 invites were sent out to dignitaries to attend the cake and wine preview the Wednesday before the Preston game (it was also a chance for Vallance to meet the VIPs ahead of his own big match with Marion Dunlop, which forced him to miss the game on the Saturday). On the Tuesday night, a Rangers team playing under the guise of the Ibroxonians fought out a 2–2 draw with Whitefield at Whitefield Park as they prepared for Preston, although the Light Blues could only muster eight men to start the game. Not surprisingly, the atmosphere at the cake and wine was jovial as the club was complimented for the quality of a facility few in British football could boast. Mr Luther, of builders Braby and Co., even noted that the sharp corrugated fencing around the ground would prevent fans from watching without paying for the privilege, as it made for an uncomfortable seat for supporters keen to snatch an illicit view of their favourites. Behind the scenes, preparations continued to accommodate fans from all over the city at the new ground. The Rangers committee asked for the 6 o’clock train to Wemyss Bay to make a temporary stop at Ibrox to allow fans easier access to the new site, while the Glasgow Tramway Company agreed to run additional brakes from the city to Paisley Road at only twopence a head. In terms of pre-match entertainment, the Scottish Umpire somewhat snootily noted: ‘The Fairfield Band offered to assist the Govan Police Band and Pipers at the opening ceremony. Declined regretfully. It is a football match, not a band contest.’8
  The game and the opening of the new ground had clearly captured the public’s imagination and, while the event was as popular as all associated with the club could have hoped, the capacity crowd of 20,000 revealed severe organisational problems. Time was called on the action five minutes early amid scenes of chaos, even though many supporters had already given up and headed for home, setting a 19th-century precedent for the 21st century’s so-called Subway Loyal, who turn for the exits as soon as the hand of the Ibrox game clock reaches out to touch 80 minutes. Even the prophecy by Mr Luther of Braby and Co., who cheerfully predicted no climbing on the perimeter fencing, was wide of the mark. The Scottish News lamented that the capacity, by kick-off time of 4pm, was ‘taxed to its utmost. There was scarcely standing room. Many spectators eager to obtain a good view mounted on the top of the corrugated iron fencing, on the sharp end of which they must have had a most uncomfortable seat. The stand was full to overflowing.’9
  The pain of the posteriors of the Light Blues legions was nothing compared to the assault on their eyes as Preston opened the scoring after only two minutes through Goodall and raced to a 5–0 lead by half-time. Goodall, born in London to Scottish parents and raised in Kilmarnock, notched up at least four goals (even the papers of the time stopped naming the North End scorers after a while). The Lancashire cracks had just scored their eighth goal, right near the end, with only a solitary response from Andy Peacock, when the game was ended prematurely.
  Seven minutes from time, as Rangers mounted a rare attack, fans who had been forced by weight of numbers onto the track around the field crowded to the touchlines for a closer look. Inevitably, spectators spilled on to the field itself, crowding the players in the process. The players eventually made their way through the throng to the safety of the dressing rooms. Rangers were victims of their own success, and claims by the builders for a capacity of 20,000 were clearly straining credulity as thin as the patience of the Preston party, who were understandably upset by the conduct of the crowd. The News explained: ‘The accommodation outside the railings was found to be too limited and the officials were obliged to allow the spectators to go inside on the track, which made room for thousands demanding admission. The spectators, evidently weary of a very slow game, began to troop out of the game some 15 minutes before the allotted time had run. The policy of allowing the people in on the track proved a fatal one, as the crowd who stood there gradually edged their way in on the field of play and finally all control was lost over them. Before the game was concluded the police tried in vain to clear the spectators off the field. The Rangers coming close on the visitors’ goal was the last straw as the people fairly swarmed round the players and the field was a black mass of living beings. It was no use now to attempt further play and the game came to an abrupt close five minutes from time. The players were followed into the pavilion and some were cheered. Others, especially Goodall, being hooted.’10

Surprisingly, few pictures exist of the first Ibrox Park, but these line drawings, from contractors Fred Braby and Co., appeared in the press ahead of the official opening against Preston North End in August 1887. The gent enjoying a smoke is standing at what today would be the Copland Road stand.

Rangers hosted Preston at the official banquet that evening in the favoured restaurant of the Light Blues, Ancell’s in Glassford Street. In the absence of Vallance, it was left to vice-president Peter McNeil to address the players and officials and he enthused about the strides the club had made in the previous 15 years and the hopes for a new era symbolised by the new ground. Not surprisingly, the on-field events of a few hours earlier merited only a passing remark. McNeil said, ‘I have been a member of the Rangers since it was ushered into the world and I cannot recollect an event which will bear comparison with the event we have been celebrating today and which has ended so gloriously for the club…we, as a club, have reason to congratulate ourselves on the splendid success that has attended the opening ceremony…there was, it is true, a curiosity shared by all to see the new ground but what attracted so large a crowd was the reputation of the North End more than the novelty that surrounded our enterprise. I am expressing the sentiments of every member of the committee when I say that we are deeply grateful to the North End for coming at this time and should it ever turn out that building extensions force them from Deepdale to some other ground the Rangers, if they are asked, will willingly go to Preston and perform the part that has been so well performed by the North End today. There is no need to say much about the game. It was played in a spirit of honest rivalry and with a true appreciation of the finer points of the game…I again express the wish that this day, which is undoubtedly the most memorable in the history of the club, will be followed by results, financial and physical, that will place the Rangers in a position that will be the envy of many and the possession of few.’11

Pictures of the first Ibrox Park are so rare as to be almost non-existent. This artist’s impression of Glasgow from the air, c.1897, shows the ground depicted bottom left. Other points of interest include the University of Glasgow tower at Gilmorehill to the north of the river and the ‘Tannant’s Stack’ at the St Rollox chemical works. The enormous Prince's and Queen's Docks on either side of the River Clyde, centre left, also dominate. Other features of interest include Central and St Enoch stations.
(Picture courtesy of Glasgow City Archives.)

Preston manager Major Sudell replied briefly, complimenting Rangers on the construction of such a spectacular new ground, but calling on the press in Glasgow to educate local fans in the matter of manners after the events of earlier in the day. The get-together broke up shortly afterwards and Preston players and officials boarded the last train south from Central Station. They did not look back as they headed for the border. Pretty soon, neither did Rangers, and even the brand new home that drew so many admiring glances from rival clubs would soon prove too restrictive for the ambitions of a club that would go on to earn a cherished status as the most successful in Scottish football history.

A New Era

Alexander Graham Bell had already invented the telephone by the time Rangers and Celtic first crossed swords on 28 May 1888, but thankfully Guglielmo Marconi still had another eight years to go before his work on wireless transmission would reach its defining stages. In truth, even if radio phone-ins had been an integral feature of the media and sporting landscape at the time, it is doubtful whether many among the Light Blues’ legions would have rushed to spin the dial and pour out their hearts in dismay at the 5–2 defeat that had just been suffered by their favourites.
  Rangers made the short journey to the east end in the spirit of sporting friendship, to help the newly formed Celtic play the opening match at their recently constructed ground at Parkhead, built in their spare time by volunteer supporters of the club. Celtic were following in the footsteps of the country’s other great outfits of Irish influence, Hibernian of Edinburgh and Harp of Dundee. The Old Firm has gone on to forge one of the most appealing yet controversial rivalries in world football, but these were more innocent times. Celtic’s 5–2 victory in front of a crowd of 2,000 against opposition featuring more second-string players than usual came courtesy of an opening goal from a former Ranger, Neil McCallum. After the match, played in an atmosphere of genuine bonhomie, both sides retired to the local St Mary’s Hall, where a supper was laid on for 70 guests and a concert enjoyed as toasts were raised to the ongoing success of both clubs. The friendship between the teams was strong. The Scottish Sport, reflecting on a forthcoming Scottish Cup tie in 1892, reported: ‘Financially, Dumbarton or Queen’s Park might have pleased treasurer Maley better, but for a genuine good match the Light Blues are favourites with the Parkhead crowd.’ 1
Perhaps it was coincidence that brought the two clubs together that early summer evening, a quirk of fate that the two teams who would become so associated with the Scottish game, and indeed each other, would meet at the very first opportunity. It also certainly made sense for Celtic to approach Rangers to play their first match, not least because of the relationship between Celtic secretary John McLaughlin and the Ibrox side, but also because the Light Blues were a draw, a prized first opponent for any club kicking off an infant venture. However, there is a hitherto unacknowledged relationship between two of the greatest figures in Celtic’s history, Tom and Willie Maley, and Rangers players, committee members and other senior club figures, as together they helped establish the first open athletic club in Scotland, the Clydesdale Harriers, bringing the sport to a wider audience than when it had previously belonged to the elite of the university and public school system. This was Glasgow united against the likes of the Fettesian-Lorettonian Club, Edinburgh Collegiate AC and St Andrews University.
  In total, 13 clubs joined forces when the Scottish Amateur Athletics Association (SAAA) was formed in February 1883, with a bias towards clubs in the east of Scotland bitterly opposed in the initial months by athletes in the west. However, differences were soon settled and the popularity of the sport boomed, particularly on the back of athletic events sponsored by football clubs such as St Bernard’s throughout the 1870s and 1880s, where participants would compete in everything from track and cycling races to five-a-side football challenges. It was against such a backdrop that the Clydesdale Harriers were formed in May 1885 to promote athletics in general and cross-country running in particular.
  Immediately, the influence of Rangers on the fledgling venture was there for all to see, not only in the membership list but also on the choice of venue for the club’s first event on 3 June 1885. It was a 300-yard handicap which attracted 54 entrants to Kinning Park, with athletes such as a certain William Wilton cheered on by approximately 500 spectators. Wilton failed to emerge from his heat, finishing sixth of seventh runners – scant consolation, surely, that he just held off R. Shiels, ‘a plucky little youngster of 12 years,’ according to the Scottish Umpire.2 The judges that summer evening included the notorious honorary match secretary J.W. Mackay, the handicapper was committee member W.W. Tait and clerks of the course included former 1877 Scottish Cup Final forward James Watson, who would go on to become vice-president and president of Rangers, further underlining the commitment of the Light Blues to the new cause.
  The 300-yard distance was marked around the pitch at Kinning Park and the event was hailed as an enormous success by the Scottish Umpire, which had been in business for less than 10 months under publisher Mackay. It came as no shock that his arch-rivals, the Scottish Athletic Journal, took a more mischievous tone and criticised the fans and the grass track in particular. In another stern editorial it lectured: ‘I should strongly advise the Clydesdale Harriers to switch their quarters from Kinning Park. Several prominent athletes have told me that so long as these handicaps are run on the Rangers ground they will not compete. I expect several names will be absent from the next handicap on account of the language used by the crowd and also because Kinning Park is not well adapted for running purposes. I know the Clydesdale Harriers are not of the Rangers stamp and hire Kinning Park because none other is available.’ 3
  The editor of the Athletic Journal needed only to glance at the membership list of the Harriers to recognise the folly of the last part of his statement. Indeed, he recognised it later that year and took a backwards leap on his earlier criticism as he slated Clydesdale for relying too heavily on the Kinning Park influence. ‘The Clydesdale Harriers are not doing so well as one could wish. I am afraid the members are not pulling very well together,’ he lamented. ‘A very attractive programme of club runs was arranged a couple of months ago but only two have come off through the failure of the members to turn up at the rendezvous. A meeting of the club is to take place this week at which some plain speaking will take place. If the truth must be told, the members are finding the Rangers clique in the club more than the other members can bear. I feared this from the very first.’4
  The Journal needed weep no more crocodile tears for the Harriers, as any teething problems it encountered in the early months were soon overcome. By 1887 they boasted 120 members, rising to 650 and then more than 1,000 before World War One. The Rangers influence was striking, from the appearance in the early years as life member of John Stewart of Belmore (one of the brothers credited with gifting Willie McNeil that first ball with which the young Light Blues played on Glasgow Green) to John Mellish, who rose to become vice-president of Clydesdale Harriers and president of the football club. The membership lists of Clydesdale in its first decade are packed with great names from the history of Rangers. Peter McNeil was a member and H. and P. McNeil were official outfitters to the Harriers. Brother Willie was also a Harrier, although there is no record of Moses, a gifted runner in his youth, ever becoming part of the club. Tom and Alick Vallance were Clydesdale Harriers, as were other players including, but not exclusively, Scottish internationals James ‘Tuck’ McIntyre, John Cameron, Donald Gow and his brother, John Robertson Gow.