In a bit of a change from usual I'm putting a piece from the next H&V in here. It's from our chief historical genius, Mr Russell.
These days you do not usually get to find out who is playing until shortly before the game. Even then it’s only the names, not necessarily the formation. The best you can hope for is working out who is not even in the ever-increasing squad by noticing which fringe player is still meandering around the car park beforehand. Or if you take your seat early figuring out the eleven from who is doing what in the warm up. It used to be called the kickabout and only took place after the teams had taken the field. Now players you watched in puzzled silence ten minutes previously get rapturous applause when led out by a referee acting like the Pied Piper because he is carrying the ball.
Half a century ago it was very different because the team was announced on Thursday and was reason enough for buying the lunchtime edition of the Evening Despatch. Sometimes the paper would include the reserve team and that became almost the only way to work out who was in favour or who was injured or otherwise. There was no blanket media coverage and very little speculation.
As an incentive to buy the programme the teams were never announced in full in the ground ahead of the game, only the changes. Programmes were printed on a Friday so the home team could generally be, ‘as per programme’, whereas if the visitors did not co-operate they would simply be shown as the eleven from their previous match.
Villa usually put out six teams every Saturday. The fifth or sixth team - which was referred to as the ‘amateurs’ because they were mostly kids too young to sign as professionals - would sometimes kick off in the morning. Six teams require six managers and trainers and a ‘reserve’ just in case of last minute injuries or illness. In the case of the first team probably two reserves, especially if there was the need for the mysterious ‘last minute fitness test’. How last minute was never made clear.
As long as teams were playing locally there was some scope in the number of travelling reserves as lower down the pecking order players could be switched about at the last minute. But if the first team was playing at Villa Park and the Central League team in Lancashire or vice versa more thought had to be given to who got to play where. Worse if the first team was playing in London.
I have a recollection of panic stations one Saturday morning when the goalkeeper reported to Villa Park injured after the reserves had set off north. An idle goalkeeper would have been a luxury. Once on the road the team bus was out of contact. The deputy keeper somehow made it back to Villa Park in time leaving the second team in a bit of a pickle as replacement goalkeepers raced around the area. In similar circumstances that was how inside left Fred Potter came to play in goal for the first time for the third team.
With no substitutes it was essential for some outfield players to take occasional practice as goalkeepers. Con Martin took things to extreme by being selected as centre half and goalkeeper but he was an exception. Usual deputy for Villa was Stan Lynn but Peter McParland will not like to be reminded of his brief turn between the sticks. I hesitate to quote Jackie Blanchflower for Manchester United as the ultimate example.
It helped if the travelling reserve was something of a utility player. Enter Amoss Moss. Sighs of disappointment always used to greet the announcement of his name as a team change. Undoubtedly he was less effective than whoever he replaced but he never let us down whether it at half back or inside forward. The rest of the team would be juggled about to accommodate him. Barring known injury to a wing half he was seldom on the team sheet on a Thursday neither did he play for the reserves all that often. But he got to travel on the team bus a lot.
Another aspect of fifties football is that teams did not get named after the manager because to the fans especially the manager was a remote figure. Once the team was on the pitch managers did little or could do little to influence things. The club chairman was always to be seen at the game and the manager was expected to sit alongside him in the directors box. At least for the first half. If things were not going too well the manager could invariably find an excuse to move closer to the action. Press reporters might comment that, ‘the manager moved to sit next to the trainer’, as an indication that he was concerned otherwise they communicated a bit like tic-tac men at the races.
John Russell
