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PAST AND PRESENT

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PAST AND PRESENT "Od Boys" on Old Times SOME SWEET AND BITTER RECOLLECTIONS. [By "FORWARD."] Comparison between past and present discloses many changes, but in Rugby football their evolution has been so gradual, so silent, as to be almost imper- ceptible. On international days more than any other, men who have been inte- rested in the game from boyhood look wistfully back through the vista of years that are gone, and when, by some chance, two or three of them gather together, they become reminiscent, and talk of other, and, perhaps, happier days. To me, these little talks are oft- times tinged with sadness. Faces tha-t were once familiar are missing, and many of the" boys of the old brigade" have dropped out of the ranks. With the incoming of a new generatio there seems to be a new spirit, and the old 'uns feel that they are breathing a new atmosphere which is not half so agree- able as the old. But their innate geniality triumphs in the end, and once they are settled down in cosiness and comfort they brush aside soft eentimen- talism, and, lifting their glasses, fight their battles over again. To the veterans these little convivial gatherings on the ova of an international match are second only in importance and inte- rest to he match, itself. To them this annual chat is quite a sacred institu- tion, fallowed by pleasant memories of the stirring days of buoyant youth. A verbatim report of some of these chats would be worthy of the dignity of big, bold type. It would be an epitomised history in a bright, readable form of the rise and development of Rugby football in this country. And it is a wonderful story when yon come to think of it. Twenty-five years ago the game was more or less in its swaddling clothes, and comparatively I few people cared whether it would grow out of its infancy or die young, fcypec- tatonj could be counted in dozens wherei they can be counted to-day in thou- i sands. Clubs that ared lsappomted to- day with 9100 wc?uld have been thankful then to take a hundred shillings. They wouldn't have known what to dor with so much wealth. There was no talk of professionalism. Men played the game from sheer, pure lovi) ->f it. In the town where I first saw an aval ball and felt its magic touch, tho first fifteen players of those days used to pay for their own "togs," their rail- way fares when playing away, and if there was a little surplus left they would indulge in the luxury of a twopenny sandwich car a chunk ot bread and cheese. There were no sumptuous dinners 01 high teas after every match. No one was employed to see that each player's togs and boots were safely conveyed to the railway station in big baskets. It was the pride of every man to sling his jereey, knickers, and boots across his shoulders and walk from his home to the ground or to the station. But all that is changed. Players like a little petting and pampering, and if they don't get their own way show signs of pouting. FoVfcttnately, players of that class are out-numbered by those who regard foot- ball in the true spirit of sportsmen, and who play the game for the game's sake. I am afraid, however, that their number is gradually diminishing, and that the time will come when pay for play will have to be a recognised principle. That seems to me to be the trend of things, and one of the inevitable resu-its, of biz gates. It k impossible to put back the hands of the clock and revert to the customs and methods of the early days of Rugby football. They are gone for ever. We must, rather, look to the future, and try to shape our destinies on lines that will run parallel with modern require- ments and be in keeping with the senti- ment of the age. But I am afraid I fcave unconsciously drifted away from my subject, and yet I do not know that wcat has been written does not come within the scope of a comparison between past and present. Jtor the moment, iiowever, that particular phase can be postponed for future treatment. Being international Day, it is more con- genial and more appropriate to take a glance backwards and re-call some of the incidents which are most likely to live in football history. Mr. W.1). Phillips-the evergreen "-is one of the small, select circle who can tell funny stories of the debacle at Blackheath, where Wales met England for the first time in 1880, and whistled sadly to the titne. of eight goals and five tries. That game was too tragic to be humorous, and i have noticed that W. D." seldom refers to it, even when he is in his happiest reminiscent mood. "Uncle Wiiiie" played in that game twenty- eight years ago. In those days he had a beard, and yet he is a single man" who is still living in hopes. There was a succession of English victories until the year 1886, when Wales met England at JLlaneiiy and made a draw of a aeaaorablS game. On the run of the game that day the gallant Welshmen ought to have won, but their luck was ovrt. That was the day wnen the cross- bar became detached from the goal- posts, and when Arthur Gould placed a seal on his sobriquet of -lionliey ld. by climbing up one of the uprights ■ and re-placing the offending pole. It was the first time an international match had ever been played at Llanelly, and iu was a day of great anxiety. The "classic slope" at iStradey was frcst- bound, and there was very grave doubts as to whether the match would be played. It did come off, but not on the "classic slope. The adjoining cricket I ground was found to be in a more playable condition, and the goal-posts were shifted there and the ground marked out according to rule-book requirements. The whole of that morn- ing I stlood outside the Stepney Hotel watching eageciy for every player to come out so that I could look and admire. The internationals of those days had no feet of clay for me. They were heroes—simply heroes. For the next two seasons there were no ir-atches between England and Wales owing to some silly dispute, but when peace was declared and the two countries met again at Dewsbury, in 1890, Wales found the turning point in her inter- national football career. Poor -BuUer"- Stadden was the hero of that match, for it was he who scored Wales's only and winning try. After that initial success against t?e &ower of English football, Wales wm a power to be reckoned with in the iKi?natMMi! tourney, and, although there Dom been many dis- appointments since tlfcaft eventful day, she has never really looked back. The bills and valleys of Wales had resounded with shouts of triumph two years before, the Scotsmen having been vanquished for the first time at Newport. That glorious victory will ever be associated Witth the name of Dr. Price Jenkins, who scored the only try of the match after a magnitcent run. It was one of those efforts which made a lasting impression on oite's memory, and it was a day when every Welshman felt a thrill of pride in his nationality, just as he did when the New ZealaiKMars met their masters at Cardiff a, coup]. of years ago. It was in the 1890 matcfe- at D ews- bury that W. J. Bancroft made his debut for Wales, and, let me say here that, in view of his rong and brilliant service to Wales. it seems a thousand pities that the necessity should have ever ariseA to place him outside the pale of Welsh amateur football. It was not until 1893 that Wales won her next match against England, and who, among the thousands who wit- nessed that game on the Cardiff Arms Park, will ever forget it. New scoring rules had not long ooen introduced, and when the final whistle went there was a feeling of uncertainty brooding over the ground as to whether Wales had .really won. But it was not long-lived. Fifteen points to fourteen can always win a game, and that was the score in this remarkable contest. Bancroft made football history that day by dropping that wonderful goal which gave Wales the victory. Arthur Gould, who was captain of the Welsh team, wanted to have the ball placed, but Ban- croft knew his own powers best. What a moment that was when he took the ball into his hands, looked at the goal- posts, and sent the ball flying over the cross-bar! I should dearly like to live it over again. England had her revenge in the following season at Birkenhead. Five goals and a try to a try was the score. Oh! but it was a cold day, and the ground was very, very hard. Indeed, I don't remember another Rugby game being played on such a hard ground. Our men fairly had their tails down, especially the three-quarters, who allowed Dicky Lockwood and Sammy Hurfrtt, the two diminutive Engtish centres, to run slick through nearly every time they had the ball. The Welshmen would not tackle or go down to the ball that day. Why, of course, yon have heard the story of one of the Welsh wing three-quarters—it was not M'Cutcheon, by the way—running away from Brads'haw, the great burly York- shire forward. I can see him at this very moment tucking the ball under his left arm a-nd starting a gallop towards the Welsh goaL On and on he went until he came to the aforesaid wing three-quarter, who slipped out of the way without making &ny attempt to tackle him. After the match someone made bold to ask him, Why didn't you tacklo Bradshaw ? The three-quarter looked at his questioner in surprise, and replied, "Tackle him, tackle him! Why, my dear boy. it was as much as I could do to get out of his way" Thus endeth the first ohapte;8.

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