Fifty
years ago, Stanley Matthews walked out at Wembley to play for
Blackpool against Bolton in the FA Cup. The ninety-minute drama
that followed will always be remembered as the Matthews Final.
There has never been an FA Cup Final like the Matthews Final.
The scene was set for high drama on May 2, 1953 before 100,000
at Wembley Stadium. Stanley Matthews, Britain's most beloved
footballer, would never get another chance of a winner's medal.
He was 38 and his Blackpool team had lost two finals in the
previous five years. Time was fast running out.
Blackpool's
opponents were fellow Lancastrians and fierce rivals Bolton
Wanderers, with a forward line led by England's powerful international
centre forward, Nat Lofthouse. The BBC was transmitting the
entire event for the first time. The homes of the few who owned
televisions were packed and the new Queen was attending her
first final.
Fifty
years on, we should remind ourselves just what the event meant.
Matthews, who made his league debut for his local team, Stoke
City, in 1932 at the age of 17, had moved to Blackpool in 1947.
He had, in a career interrupted by the war, become a legend
on the right wing for both clubs and England, for whom he was
a regular. No one played quite like him. He could bring a ball
under control in a split second, fool defenders with fast footwork,
beat them for speed, cut in to score or send inch-perfect crosses
to fellow forwards. He was, simply, the most exciting footballer
in the world.
Nicknamed
either the Wizard of Dribble or, more succinctly, the Maestro,
he had been voted the first-ever Footballer of the Year in 1948.
His mere presence would add thousands to the attendance of any
game. Even opposition players would be eager to shake his hand.
After losing to Blackpool in the FA Cup semifinal, the Tottenham
Hotspur fullback, Alf Ramsey (later to manage England to World
Cup victory in 1966), was typically sporting. "I did not have
a problem playing against Matthews," he said. "I had the honour
of being taken to the cleaners by him." These were different
times, of course. The Second World War had ended just eight
years before and the crowds were vast and upbeat. There was
a fixed maximum wage for players and prices at the turnstiles
were low, so there was no social or financial gulf between footballers
and supporters. Nor was there segregation on the terraces; sourness
towards opposition players was virtually non-existent. Crowds
went to admire Matthews, not to mock him. To cap it all, the
Maestro was a perfect gentleman and had never been booked or
sent off.
The
entire country, save for followers of Bolton Wanderers, was
willing Matthews to do it that day. There was another stimulus
for Matthews himself, which remained private for much of his
life. According to his excellent autobiography, The Way It Was
it was the deathbed wish of his late father that he would, one
day, get an FA Cup winner's medal. He had promised, rather recklessly
in what is a team game, that he would fulfil that dream. After
two loser's medals, he knew that this was his final of finals.
"I had slept a perspiring sleep the night before," he writes
in his book. "Now I was ready for what I saw as my ultimate
challenge. I had always liked the big occasion and they wouldn't
come bigger than this. On the walk to the centre line, I hoped
and prayed I would be equal to it." But what of the game itself?
To see it again on video, in flickering black-and-white, with
a commentary from Kenneth Wolstenholme, is a revelation. It
is like turning the clock back 100 years, let alone 50.
Players
throw the ball back to each other when it goes out of play;
the tackles are hard, not violent; there are no tantrums or
shirt-pulling; no player makes a single protest to either the
referee or linesmen, despite one or two questionable decisions.
The game is awash with sportsmanship and silky skills. They
played with leather T-balls, whose 16-ounce weight doubled during
games on wet and muddy pitches. Stout boots, with ankle support,
thick white laces and solid studs were needed to cope with such
pitches and balls. The shirts and shorts were heavy cotton,
the socks were wool. And what of the commentary? Wolstenholme
(always remembered for "they think it's all over… it is now,"
as Geoff Hurst scored England's late fourth goal against West
Germany in 1966) was perfect for the mood of the moment.
Bolton
took just 75 seconds to take the lead in the 90-minute match.
A long-range shot from Lofthouse skimmed the surface and was
fumbled by Blackpool goalkeeper George Farm into the net. Disaster.
But no cruel replays; no recriminations. "Well, I used to be
a goalkeeper and my heart goes out to George Farm," says Wolstenholme,
before pointing out that the pitch is still wet from recent
rain, despite blazing sunshine. It sets the tone. A free kick
is given to Bolton. "Just a little wild by young Cyril Robinson,
there." Matthews gets the ball, to be swiftly tackled: "To the
Maestro again - do you see the Bolton players crowding in on
him? … Probably the greatest footballer of all time - certainly
the greatest I've ever seen." After a Blackpool equaliser from
centre forward Stan Mortensen, Bolton score again and are in
the lead, 2-1, at half-time. In the 55th minute, Bolton left
half Eric Bell heads a third goal for Bolton. It seems at this
point that Bell (who has played on despite a first-half injury)
will be the hero of the day. Matthews has not been playing particularly
well, and the Blackpool side look down and out at 3-1 with 22
minutes remaining.
The
camera focuses on Matthews, a slim, slight figure with hair
swept back and the familiar number 7 on the back of his shirt.
He looks weary. "Now, Stanley," says Wolstenholme, "you have
a lot of work to do." There is then a transformation, sudden
and unexpected. Matthews receives the ball, slices past two
defenders and places a perfect cross which the goalkeeper fumbles.
Mortensen scores: 3-2 to Bolton. What follows is the stuff of
Boy's Own Paper. Matthews, aided by inside forward Ernie Taylor,
switches on. He appears to be all over the pitch. Blackpool
seem inspired.
There
is also some hard tackling, none of which is foul play. There
are stoppages for Bolton injuries: Lofthouse, Bobby Langton,
Ralph Banks, and Malcolm Barras. These prove to be significant,
since the referee has to play injury time. The game is almost
over, with two minutes left, when Blackpool win a free kick.
Mortensen takes it. He hits it so fast that the camera can hardly
pick up the ball as it rockets into the net. It is 3-3 and looking
set for 30 minutes' extra time. Matthews is playing as if his
life depends on it, and there is a sense that sporting history
is in the making. With a minute of injury time left, Matthews
receives the ball one last time, jinks past Banks and Barrass,
crosses the ball low and hard - slipping as he does so - and
Bill Perry (nickname Champagne Perry) sidefoots the ball into
the net. It is 4-3 to Blackpool.
