South Yorkshire Times, November 3rd 1933
The Fatal Field
A Tale Of “Hill 60”
Denaby Dolour
Rawmarsh Ready For The North
“Hill 60” claimed another victim on Wednesday. Denaby, only once before a cup-tie side before this season in Midland League or F.A. Cup engagements, were soundly drubbed by a whole-kept team of talented triers, who knew their way about this graveyard of football hope and reputation.
There were indications at Tickhill Square on Saturday that the Rawmarsh defence was rather better than the Denaby attack. For the replay Denaby had to re-arrange their forces owing to the transfer of Hinchliffe, and were left with a rather makeshift attack, with Haggar on the wing and Siddall as his partner, and Fitzgerald partnering McLean on the left. Hickman filled the vacancy at right-half. Rawmarsh had the further advantage of playing an unchanged team.
First Blows
Expectations were more than realised in the first eight minutes. It was Rawmarsh’s day all right. They won the toss and promptly made use of that dreadful slope. First-time kicking, rapid tackling and direct assaults on goal had the Denaby defence in a tangle very quickly. Hudson fumbled a shot from the left and WILSON, a quick-witted and ready-footed centre-forward, had the ball in the net. He followed with a second when the Rawmarsh line developed another well-organised and swiftly consummated attack, and you could positively feel the Rawmarsh fans counting the miles to South Bank.
Denaby continued to try to play the kind of football that goes with nice level pitches, and did wonderfully well with it for a time. But for the modicum of success that came their way they were almost entirely indebted to McLean. Almost before the ball was kicked off warning voices were heard advising the Rawmarsh defenders to “watch” this mercurial little winger; and after not many minutes they were crying, “I told you so.” McLean made light of the slope, the gusty, treacherous grass, the traps of the ground. He danced round Crooks and Wesson again and again, and put the ball into the most dangerous spots in front of the Rawmarsh goal. But Denaby had not an inside forward capable of making good with the opportunities provided.
A Blunder Retrieved
For a spell Denaby were doing so well against the slope that pessimists began to wonder “How many” in the second half. Their pessimism deepened when the Rawmarsh defence showed signs of wilting under the persistent pressure, and HARPER neatly sliced a ball he should have left alone wide of Cutts’s waiting hands into the net.
The slope being generally agreed to be “worth two goals,” Denaby’s balance sheet looked quite pretty at that point. But after 40 minutes RENSHAW wiped out the defensive error and Rawmarsh were again taking fortune at the flood. Still, there was a general movement towards the foot of the hill at the interval, which looked suggestive.
No Road!
Alas! for the hopes of Denaby. They began masterfully, with their old solid phalanx of attack, halves steadily pressing the forwards on; but from the earliest minutes of the half it was apparent Denaby had not a marksman or opportunist in the forward line. Moreover, for some obscure reason, McLean was entirely neglected throughout the half. For ten minutes or so the ball remained within about 30 yards of Cutts with few further flights, but Denaby’s inside forwards appeared to be obsessed with the idea that the only way to checkmate the oddities of the ground was to walk the ball into the net. In that they were, of course, baulked every time by a defence who were not prepared to commit any more errors, and who found it “pie” to cover the path to goal when Denaby themselves narrowed that path to a mere track down the middle. Soon the siege was lifted and Rawmarsh were showing almost as much liveliness on the crest of the hill as they had done in the hollow. And when Matt TAYLOR failed to get out of the way of a swinging ball from RENSHAW, and turned it into the net to make Rawmarsh’s fourth goal, whatever doubt might have remained about the result, in the mind of some Denaby super-optimist, was at an end.
Mins Punch
As a matter of plain fact Denaby never looked good for goals. They were “ground licked” and beaten in tactics and pace. The Rawmarsh sidefield made Porter, Jnr., herald, Siddall and Hagar look sluggish in the second half. Howard the red Seth King alone almost challenged the Rawmarsh impenetrable defence. The twice fired in powerful long drives which Cutts fielded safely; and he once had Cutts completely beaten by a mighty shot that crashed the ball against an upright. But these efforts were more sops to Denaby’s shattered pride than serious essays to pull the game out of the fire. That was obviously impossible while Rawmarsh remained on the field.
The Indefatigable Smith
It was an interesting game, containing a lot of surprisingly good football, and a deal of rank bad. The ground has many faults to answer for, but everything Denaby are sadly lacking the weighty leadership of Adams and his opportunist sharp-shooting. On Wednesday they were a team without an attack. McLean alone cannot make a goal-scoring machine. The forward line was a collection of ragged units, and the halves botched pass after pass with heart-breaking consistency. King worked hard and Smith enabled the home team to stand the tremendous pressure of the day. Hudson was far below his usual reliability, and the backs at times were too hard pressed to kick with their customary judgment, though they had a lot of work to get through, and got through a large proportion of it with credit.
Strong Men Of Rawmarsh
The Rawmarsh defence never wavered after that one brief spell in the first half when Denaby were at their best. Wesson dominated throughout, as, indeed, he and his side-kick, who had to be changed later on by cramp and speed to be passed. Cutts, too, was safe, and Harper made good for his mistake with many a good clearance. Black was an invaluable straightforward worker in the middle of the field, always in the thick of it in attack or defence, and apparently tireless. Foster, on balance, had much the better of the day’s arguments with Hagar and Siddall; and Crooks, who had a worrying time in the first half, found life much easier in the second and did his part in holding up Denaby. The wingers did not make the best use of the ball, particularly in their centring, and the better part of the forward line—in contrast to Denaby’s—was from the middle, where Wilson, alone, required a good deal of the attention of the Denaby defence. Goacher was a ubiquitous forager, and Hewitt another tireless worker. Taken all round, Rawmarsh won on their team merits as well as those of their ground, which is calculated to reduce the football strangers to insignificance.
And Now For South Bank.
So Rawmarsh, losers of many an Amateur Cup fight, are seeking and finding fresh fields to conquer in the more strenuous arena of the professional tournament. They will—on should-be-followed to South Bank by an enthusiastic and hopeful band of devotees. They deserve it.
One of the biggest crowds ever assembled on the ground paid over 225 in fourpences and twopences, and got more than value for money.