I thought it would be fun to share this tongue-in-cheek article I wrote for inclusion in a piece of student coursework; it touches on pre-1920s football in Wyrley/Landywood, Cheslyn Hay, Bridgtown, Essington, Bloxwich, Cannock and Hednesford. It is, please remember, just a bit of fun.
I have just had yet another conversation with a ‘football fan’ where 50s Dudley legend, Duncan Edwards, who played for Manchester United and died as a result of the Munich air-crash, was dismissed – actually not him, but football of the period – under a rather lazy observation of ‘that old kind of football was tosh’ [tosh being a replacement word offered by myself].
This exchange prompted me to watch again Harry Enfield’s sketch poking fun at ‘old football’ through the fictitious pipe-smoking Charles ‘Charlie’ Charles and his Arsenal team of the 1930s – and yes it is funny – as well as that from Frank Skinner and David Baddiel’s Fantasy Football League from the mid-1990s in which the pair ridiculed ‘old football’ (anything filmed in black and white) to a jingle that ran: ‘old foot-ball, old football is tosh, but not as tosh as Andy Cole.’ While it is up to you to judge Andy Cole, I do want to question, even though I appreciate in this case it was made for comedic effect, the first part: as I don’t think old football was rubbish, it was simply different – which is the very point that makes Enfield’s sketch work in the first place.
What annoys me is that while the ‘fan’ is entitled to an opinion, we all are, they were, in truth, not offering a reasoned argument as to why it was tosh, (say, from having watched Edwards play): it is assumed that Edwards could not possibly be as good as Kevin De Bruyne and so this translates into… ‘tosh.’ If you know something of the past it is perfectly reasonable to question it, it is equally reasonable to criticise it, but sadly there are all too many that exclusively view it through the lens of today instead of trying to understand it or attempting to place it in its own time.
What is it that qualifies me to speak on this subject? Well, on the football side of things I am a season ticket holder for Aston Villa – which, over the last decade, means I have a deep understanding of watching rubbish! I jest, sort of. I did play open-age football from the age of 15 to 44, competing at my peak in the top divisions of the Sunday and Saturday leagues in Birmingham (Coronation League and Birmingham Works League, for example) and even getting the offer of a trial for Moor Green (who merged with Solihull Borough and rose up the football pyramid as Solihull Moors), however, as this was pre-1992, it would no doubt be viewed by our ‘fan’ as firmly in the tosh level.
So no, it isn’t football – it is history: while I am not a football historian, I never-the-less still feel a little qualified to offer an argument as I am an archivist by profession and, as such, did once look after the historic records of Walsall FC, while the ball that was used in January 1933, when Walsall beat Arsenal in the FA Cup (considered as big an upset as Hereford knocking out Newcastle in 1972, but perhaps not Altrincham defeating Birmingham City in 1986), was housed in the Walsall Leather Museum. Having looked after such heritage, I would like to ask: if old footy stuff is rubbish, why on earth do people still care about it and why do we pay for its maintenance? The answer is that we are not making a judgement on the quality of the game, but to reflect on, with wooden studs and boots that look like the Doc Martens worn by 80s punks, just how different it was then.
Over the next few lines, I want to make some brief observations, in a fun way, on these differences and, as I am also a local historian, I will use some local football teams and players from around the South Staffordshire area (from around 1900 to 1920) as examples; my opening points, however, are more general.
The game has always had some kind of corruption: from backhanders to players covering lost wages in 1880 to playing, as I did in the 1980s, under someone else’s name as I wasn’t registered – but now, I think we can all agree, the higher-level game is obsessed with money and the governing bodies like FIFA are seen as more corrupt (Sepp Blatter, Qatar… hmm).
The game had its roots in the middle-class amateur (Old Etonians being held up as a classic example), however, this was to change: the professionalism bought about by the inception of the Football League in 1888 started to attract blue-collar talent to the game precisely because the then modest wages allowed players devote more time to the game instead of doing a 9-hour shift down the pit, six days a week, before they could kick a ball. Rugby League did the same in 1895. In short, while it was available to all, it became a game played by the working-class and for the working-class spectator; while now it is dominated by middle-class spectators, elite ownership of clubs and the players, even at modest clubs, being multi-millionaires.
Organised football, rather than teams that just played friendlies or in local cup competitions, became progressively more popular through the creation of the league system – although it still relatively small by modern comparison. By 1910 a few small leagues operated for South Staffordshire teams, each with a handful of teams (a single division). They had a pecking-order with these leagues, as today, so a team like Hednesford Wesleyans played in the Hednesford Church and Chapel League; Hednesford United in the Walsall District League and the biggest of the clubs, Hednesford Town, in the Birmingham Combination.
While the Birmingham Combination League had the broadest catchment area, covering from Hednesford down to Bromsgrove, Halesowen, Nuneaton and Atherstone, the more junior ones were more parochial for very good reasons – the chief reason possibly being transportation, and not just for the team but for the supporters – as the availability of motor transport was limited; when Cheslyn Hay United left the Walsall and District League to play in the newly formed Cannock Chase League in 1912, there was only a railway service in the village as buses did not arrive until 1915. Charlie Moore, Cheslyn Hay’s greatest football achiever, would likely travel with the local fans on the train when playing for Cannock Town in 1912.
I mentioned spectators, and this may seem a little grandiose for what effectively seem to be Sunday League teams – only they were not. Bear in mind two things: first, there was no television or radio coverage of games – so unless watched live, the only experience of the sport would come through cinema newsreels – the very ones lampooned by Enfield, Skinner and Baddiel; second, while these teams are simply playing on a pitch marked on a field, with little if any facilities, the newspaper reports often talk of hundreds watching. This is born out in a 1910 newspaper report on a woman that was fatally hurt at Great Wyrley and Churchbridge Station after she fell as the platform as it was over-run by spectators returning from a Cannock match. While experience teaches to expect a little newspaper exaggeration, when Bridgtown United played local rivals Cheslyn Hay United in the Cannock League there were several hundred watching and when Cannock Town played Birmingham Trams in the Birmingham Combination, just after the first war, an attendance of 1000 was recorded.
To put this into perspective, the average attendance for Hednesford Town, the premier local non-league team currently in the Southern League Central Division, who once graced the Conference League (now the National League), over last season (and even before Covid) was around 500. Aston Villa’s highest attendance is over 76,000, achieved in 1946, although in 1888, over 26,000 attended at their old Wellington Road ground – a ground they left in 1897 for Villa Park as it was too small, had an uneven pitch and little in the way of spectator facilities – which doesn’t sound like the football was that bad to me.
Make no bones about it, these games could be rough; indeed, Villa’s loss in the game at Wellington Road led to a pitch invasion; perhaps some things don’t change. South Staffordshire was comprised of mining towns that worked rough and played rough, where, in 1910, a case involving an assault on a Cheslyn Hay player ended up in court. When Cheslyn Hay United lost 2-0 to Bridgtown in the inaugural season of the Cannock Chase League, tempers flared, fists flew, and three players were sent from the pitch, while the fans took discussing the match in the local hostelries with, perhaps, the same obvious result.
Perhaps the most bizarre incident occurred in 1909, when Cheslyn Hay United were playing the mighty Little Bloxwich Wanderers in the semi-final of the Penkridge Charity Cup: little charity was shown by the Little Bloxwich goalkeeper, who decided for no apparent reason to punch the United forward; it is not recorded as to whether the forward fell to the floor, rolled while clutching his right knee despite being hit in the face, raised his arm aloft to summon the trainer with the magic sponge or if the United captain brandished an imaginary card. The ‘keeper was sent off for the offence, but what was bizarre is that he refused to go and so, and I can’t imagine this happening in any game of a similar level today, the match resumed with a penalty that the offending keeper faced – justice was done, as while the penalty was missed United eased to the final 6-1 (interestingly, we would call these goals, whereas newspaper reports of the day often refer to them as points) and on to eventually lift the cup itself.
When I grew-up many of us lads used to congregate at the end of the road to play football using the school gates as a goal. With the diminishing number of playing fields, as many are sold off for building land, or just through rank laziness, street footy has returned in the shopping precinct near me. In 1901, the absence of such facilities in Cheslyn Hay saw several local lads have a kick-around in the village High Street – so no difference then? Well, yes: back then the kids were summoned to appear before the magistrates and were fined 6 shillings each. The quality of the football took second stage to simply playing it.
I will turn now to what is perhaps the starkest contrast between the ages: transfers and recruitment. There are two general ways to get to play for an established Premier League club, that is being picked up at a young age and nurtured in an academy, or through a gradual advancement in level through minor non-league and so on until signed, through an agent, by a major club as long as you still have age on your side. I will look at two local cases, Edward ‘Teddy’ Peers and Charlie Moore, that involve transfers to higher clubs from Hednesford Town and where the two men would raise a puzzled eyebrow if either the word academy or agent was used.
Peers was from a town in Flintshire, Wales. Having started with his local team in Connah’s Quay, in 1911 he signed for the then second division league team of Wolverhampton Wanderers. He played for them (with spells at other clubs during the suspension of the league during the Great War) until August 1921. At this point, he was released on a free transfer and seemed to play for Hednesford Town briefly while trying to secure a move to a higher status club. His arrival at the Pitmen saw a large attendance for a pre-season practice match, likely to view their ‘notable capture’ as he was called. Peers was pro-active in his attempt to restart his league career and was not the only player to place adverts in newspapers, like the Birmingham Sports Argus, advertising that he was a goalkeeper and ‘open for engagement’ on a free transfer after leaving Wolves. What is incredible is that he was placing the advert at the time he was playing for his country (Peers ended up playing a dozen times in goal for Wales) and, the different world Peers played in, required him to give his address, then 357 Bilston Road, for replies. His advert was successful, as in December 1921 he returned to the second division with Port Vale and was again playing in front of 10,000 supporters.
The world Charlie Moore occupied would be familiar to many of his contemporaries, but would be classed as unusual today. Charlie Moore was born in 1894, in Cheslyn Hay; he was the son of a coal miner and when left school, likely at the age of 12, he worked as an edge-tool grinder in one of the local factories. By 1911, when he was 17 years old, he had already lost his mother and two of his siblings to the perils of the age. He must have started playing locally from around 1910, and may have played for the neighbouring Bridgtown United, but it was clear that he was sufficiently talented to move into the Birmingham Combination League with Cannock Town.
Moore, with his friend and Cannock Town forward Joe Wesley, volunteered for army fairly swiftly after the outbreak of the war and they called up in January 1915, and so were unavailable from that point on, with Cannock’s form slumping as a result. Wesley would later write to his father (May 1916) with a story that he and Moore were in a trench when a shell burst and a shrapnel fragment just missed Moore, but killed the officer next to him. The sights he must have seen. Football would become, after the war, even more popular – with many teams coming from the newly formed Discharged Soldiers and Sailors Clubs (Ex-servicemen’s Clubs). Moore himself returned to play a in a charity game where the ex-service players defeated the whippersnappers from the Cheslyn Hay Institute.
Whatever his physical or emotional state he returned to playing, however, the Birmingham Combination did not resume until the 1919/20 season and whatever happened, whether Moore had agreed to return to Cannock or alternatively to sign for Hednesford Town in the pre-season, he somehow ended up playing for Manchester United in May 1919 against Liverpool and impressing enough to attain a permanent contract. With this, Moore had achieved his own small town boy made big American dream: can you imagine today, a 25 year-old, whose last league game had been over 4 years before, for a team in the Birmingham Combination League, being signed by, and playing in Manchester United’s first team? Moore remained with the club for 10 years.
As a final thought, Moore came back to Cheslyn Hay in 1920 to play for the local cricket team in the closed-season in ‘order to maintain his fitness’. I remember Aston Villa goalkeeper Jim Cumbes, playing for Worcestershire back in the mid-1970s, but it would not happen today. Also, when Cannock Town were facing a tough period in 1929, Moore was at the AGM and promised to help by trying to arrange a friendly with a Manchester United team – as Cannock Town were his stepping stone to first class football. I think he left United that year and it may never have come off, but a noble gesture none the less.
Having highlighted some of the differences, let us finish on one thing that has not changed: that is football it is a game for all, finding ways of bringing different people together. We have all heard of the Christmas Day football game in the first war (where Blackadder claimed he was never off-side), well individual friendlies and, indeed, whole tournaments were played by soldiers out of the front-line – usually regiment based, so encompassing mixed-rank teams, but also games between differing ranks (officers, NCOs and privates for example) in an age and in an army where social status was very important.
At home, many leagues were suspended during the Great War, as teams lost players to military service and some felt it was morally wrong to play while engaged in the conflict, however, it would be wrong to suppose this shut football down as the self-same reason that caused a hiatus in the organized leagues actually created new leagues and new teams: Landywood United were formed during the war from munition workers and competed in the Birmingham Munitions League – a league that was acceptable as the players were contributing to the war effort. For those that did not, it was still used as a form of local entertainment, but consciences were assuaged as games became charity events to raise money for war charities, like the local Prisoner of War fund.
Finally, the ladies also started to form teams and an English Ladies Football Association had been set-up by 1922. While there were not enough teams to form a local league in South Staffordshire in 1921, the villages of Essington and Cheslyn Hay found eleven stout hearts each and battled it out in front of around 5,000 people at a neutral venue in Cannock.
So, to finish, I have offered a little evidence to that ask we stop thinking of old football as rubbish (or other terms!); that does not mean you cannot smile at a Duncan Edwards football shirt as it had buttons down the front, quite the opposite, but please, just make that smile one of understanding and, hopefully, respect for a different age rather than a disparaging one.