Sporting Aspects
Freedom of Choice
By J. P. W. MALLALIEU IN one of his books—was it The Economic Consequences...? —Keynes etches the 1913 world as it might have been for . those who had money. Lying in bed, they could lift the telephone-receiver, and then, through the mouthpiece, demand whatever they wanted with well-bred firmness. What they wanted would be delivered forthwith. By lifting the receiver they could book a ticket to any place they had heard of, and then go there without Treasury permission or photographs counter- signed by a Justice of the Peace, provided they had the energy to walk downstairs and climb into a hansom.
I thought of Keynes the other day in a context which might have surprised him. I was looking at the sports fixtures for the following two weeks, and wishing that it was 1913 and I had money. Just look at this very Saturday. There is, first of all, the Boat Race. You can usually tell about Boat Races: Cambridge have beaten the record between the Fulham Foot- ball Ground and Hammersmith Broadway, or wherever it is; their final trial was two hours faster than Oxford's, but Oxford are improving rapidly. It is certain to be a good race. So say the critics year after year, and you know that Cambridge will win by several miles. But this year, believe it or not, Oxford are genuine favourites. It is Cambridge who are " improving rapidly," which means, if the critics are true to form, that Oxford should be at Mortlake before Cambridge have left their stake boat. I should like to see that. What fun it would be to count a few chickens after they are hatched.
Then at Odsal Stadium in Bradford there is the Rugby League Cup semi-final between Wigan and Huddersfield. These two teams are the aristocrats of Rugby League—i.e., over the years they have been the best—and, in the Cup, they usually get their heads chopped off. Before and immediately after the First World War Wigan would have been called the greatest Rugby team of all time if Huddersfield in that period had not rightly been called the greatest collection of athletes in the history .of sport. I have never heard of a poor game between Wigan and Huddersfield; and those that I have seen remain in my memory along with a certain sixty-two by Reggie Spooner, a certain goal by Alec Jackson and a piece of referee- ing by Tommy Vile. I should like to see this semi-final. Further there is the Grand National. So much for next Saturday.
Last Saturday was just as good. Lifting my 1913 Keynsian receiver, I could take my choice, having, of course, the money to pay. There was the Calcutta Cup at Twickenham. There were the semi-final of the Cup at Villa Park between Stanley Matthews and Tottenham Hotspur and the other semi-final at Maine Road, Manchester, between Bolton and Everton. There was the replayed Amateur Cup semi-final between Pegasus and Southall on the Fulham Football Ground. There was the inter- Varsity golf. What a luxurious sporting world_ we live in 1 How much my son, in twenty-five years' time, faced with a choice between Preston North End versus Torquay United in the London Combination or working overtime at the factory, will envy his father's freedom of choice 1 How little will he know 1 - Next Saturday I shall not watch the Boat Race because I shall be in the North. I shall not watch the Wigan v. Hudders- field semi-final because, I am told, you will not take more than two references per season to Huddersfield and I must reserve those for Huddersfield Town. I shall instead watch the Grand National, hoping only that all of you lose your money, if any. As for last Saturday, I could not watch the Calcutta Cup because the Rugby Union said there was no room in the Press Box and, though I honestly prefer to stand, I am at present suffering from sciatica. I would not see either of the Cup semi-finals because, having to be away from home on the Sunday, I was not willing to be away all of Saturday from my wife and children. So I went to the Fulham football-ground. Perhaps I should say that I got to the Fulham football-ground eventually. I had allowed myself one hour from Hampstead to Craven Cottage. I was in sight of Hammersmith Broadway's usual traffic-jam within twenty minutes. The next 400 yards,: however, took me some three quarters of an hour, and I arrived in the ground, angry and breathless, twenty minutes after the kick-off. So much for Keynes and his 1913 1 So much for my son and his 19781 Then, just to prove that God is in his Heaven, that all is right with the world, I saw about the best football match I have seen since the war. I do not yet know the secret of Pegasus. The members of the team are lucky if they see each other once a week, yet they have now, in only five years of life, reached Wembley twice. I just know that on Saturday, except for about ten minutes, they were too good for Southall, them selves one of the best amateur sides in the country, and tha they have two outstanding individual players.
One of these is Pawson. Pawson is grey-haired, compac and imperturbable. For long periods he is content to strid briskly about the ground, watching the play with grave detach ment. Then, suddenly in the right place at the right time, he i flashing away, beating man after man without apparentl deviating one degree from his course. He had a hand—o rather a head and a foot—in both Pegasus goals. The first before half-time, came from a corner. Pawson as usual wa standing apart from the ruck of players, apparently contem plating the infinite. The ball swung over and was headed out Pawson eyed it critically, almost distastefully, then, with a twist of his neck, headed it back again right over the struggling mass, right across the goal-mouth, to where he knew tha Tanner was unmarked. That was that. In the second half he Sutcliffe and Lunn interpassed for half the length of the fiel before putting a square pass across the goal, for Sutcliffe to hit the goal-keeper with his first shot and score with his second.
The other outstanding Pegasus player was Lunn at inside forward. Lunn's black head towered above everyone else's, and never once missed the ball in the air. More remarkable Lunn managed to get his lanky body over the ground at grea speed. Most remarkable of all, though throughout the secon half he was subjected to thoroughly undeserved booing when ever he got the ball, he remained unperturbed. It was doubt ful on Saturday whether the great Pawson's star has yet begu to decline. There was no doubt that Lunn's star has begi? to rise.
As for Southall, they fought hard. For about ten minutes, and temporarily with only ten men, they were on top, and theit outside left put them back into the fight with a shot which stretched the Pegasus goal-keeper right across his goal-mouth' in a vain effort to tip the fleeting ball. Then, with the last kick of the game and the score 2-1, a Southall forward had the ball at his feet and the open goal before him. But justice sent his kick over the bar, and the 23,000 crowd, forgetting its ill manners, stood cheering both sides until the field was empty.
Maybe in 1913, with freedom of choice, I would have gone , to Twickenham where England piled up a record number of points against Scotland, or to Maine Road where Everton, afte; being 0-4 down at half-time, fought back to 3-4, or to Villa Park where, as a result of the direct intervention of Providence, Blackpool beat Spurs 2-1 only ten seconds before the final whistle. But it is 1953, and I am directed by Providence. If. Providence, provides me with games like Pegasus. v. Southall I shall not complain.
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