By Joe Mercer – Everton, Arsenal, and England.
During a temporary stoppage about 4 minutes from full time, with the score 2-0 in our favour in the 1950 Liverpool vs Arsenal FA Cup Final , my old friend Walley Barnes said to me, “What does it feel like to win a Cup medal?” My words to Walley were unprintable but, in no uncertain manner, I informed him that the game was not over yet, and to get back on his job and wait for the final whistle.
I don’t usually ‘blow my top’, that was not my way of captaining a team, and after the match, Walley said, “What went wrong with you? The match was in the bag, Billy Milne had told me there was only 4 minutes to go”.
I replied, “Yes, I knew that, but let me tell you about a game between Everton and Tottenham in a Cup-Tie replay at White Hart Lane in 1937, a game that stopped me from counting my chickens before they hatched.”
Tottenham were in the Second Division, and when they were drawn to play at Goodison Park, I didn’t think we would have much trouble in getting through to the next round. But, as usual, the FA Cup is a great leveller and we only scraped a draw in the last few seconds. The game had not been a great one, but we had enjoyed most of the territorial advantage, Tottenham’s first goal was one of those freaks which always stick out in ones memory.
A long ball from the left had come across, Ted Sagar had come out but, instead of catching it in his usual immaculate manner, he decided to punch it. Tottenham’s outside right McCormick had his back to goal, Ted punched the ball right on to his head and McCormick was the most surprised man on the field when the ball rebounded into the net.
But, with seconds to go, I suppose we were a bit lucky when Jackie Coulter, our Irish outside-left, scrambled the equalizer and so down to White Hart Lane for the replay, with no thoughts whatever that the game would turn out to be the most thrilling and memorable in all my career.
It was a Monday, and the ground was saturated with a weekend’s rain. This was right up our street, because in those days on the right wing for Everton was Albert Geldard who, on a heavy ground with the brilliant Cliff Britton behind him, was almost unplayable. We had a few changes in the side, Torry Gillick coming in as outside-left to partner a boy playing his first game for The Toffees… the boy? Tommy Lawton.
Our side read: Sagar, Cook, T E Jones, Britton, Gee, Mercer, Geldard, Cunliffe, Dixie Dean, Tommy Lawton, and Gillick.
Right from the start the Everton side got on top, and in the mud, the plan of playing to Albert Geldard soon paid dividends, Albert created havoc in the Tottenham defence, and very soon we were two goals up, Jimmy Cunliffe getting the first and Tommy Lawton celebrating his debut with a brilliant left foot goal which rattled into the back of the net from 30 yards. Morrison reduced the lead, but at half-time with the score 3-1 thanks to some brilliant work and a goal by the one and only Dixie Dean.
The second half was a repetition of the first, in fact kicking down the slope towards the end where the teams come out, I think we were playing more easily than ever. Then with four minutes to go, the score 3-1 in Everton’s favour, ‘it happened’. I played a ball on the left wing, which I agree was over the line, but no whistle went, so I crossed it into the penalty area, Dixie fastened on to it and was in the act of shooting when Arthur Rowe, later to become Spurs manager, was adjudged to have fouled Dean. The referee, Dr Barton, pointed to the spot and there we were, 3-1 up, the ball on the spot for a penalty and 4 minutes to go, and if that game didn’t appear to be won, then I have never heard of one that was.
But in the meantime the linesman was flagging, and after some arguing Dr Barton was persuaded to consult him. The outcome of it was no penalty for Everton, but a throw-in for Tottenham, and no one knew better than me, how fair that decision was. Unfortunately the remainder of the side took a poor view of this and were still arguing when the throw-in was taken. Before we could bat our eyes the ball was whisked across the pitch to the left-wing, back into the centre and Morrison had headed a goal.
Right from the re-start away went Tottenham again, and in next to no time they had got the equalizer through a similar movement, Morrison again being the scorer. Then, with the game reaching the last few seconds, their inside-forward Meek fastened on to a ball in mid-field, and wormed his way towards the penalty area, all of sudden he hit a terrific shot which must have been from well outside the box, and to my terrible anguish it finished in the back of the net.
I was immediately behind him when he shot, and I saw the ball so very clearly every inch of the way, as the ball hit the net the referee blew the whistle for full-time, and for a fleeting second the majority of the players didn’t know whether the goal had counted or not. I remember Billy Cook, our full-back saying, “Was that a goal, Ref? and Dr Barton said, “It certainly was.”
Then the Tottenham lads realized the game was won, and of course their joy was quickly transferred to the spectators. The commotion and the cheering was deafening, I will never forget the sight of the programmes, hats, etc, floating down to earth from the double-decker stand. It resembled a snowstorm.
It was a very dejected and heart-broken youth, who staggered off the field, knowing the result to be true, but scarcely realizing it had happened. However, when I look back over the years, it is nice to realize that this bitter lesson taught me through the light of practical experience, that it is always foolish to question a referee’s decision, and a game is never lost until the final whistle.