Tales from Grandad's Tool Shed
Nightmare – Season 1961/62
Published by Eccles on February 18, 2008
“Make a cup of tea will you SunBoy, and put some whiskey in mine. I’m frozen.”
So was I, and wet too, having had to walk through the downpour to fetch the car and give him a lift home. There’s nothing more frustrating than having a match called off half an hour before kick-off, but this time it was infuriating. The game with Colchester was to have been the first home match following Gillingham going into Administration, and all the work that had gone into getting a decent crowd, and the emotion that had been poured out at the Public Meeting two nights previously, would now be wasted. It was just another twist of the knife.
The tea was ready. I placed his mug, complete with a healthy slug of scotch, on the table in front of him and slumped into the vacant armchair. “Can it get any worse Grandad? In Administation, half past three on a Saturday afternoon, and no match to be interested in. Have to get used to it I suppose.” He seemed strangely calm about it. “The message from me is ‘Never give up’, SunBoy. There have been worse times than this – not many I agree, but at least three previous occasions when we’ve stared into the abyss, but each time we came through and prospered.” I wasn’t really buying it. “Well we survived in 1992/93 by beating Halifax” I said “although now two years on we’re in an even worse mess. And in 1938, when we lost our league place, the war came and after it we completely re-launched in the Southern League and stormed back. That’s two, where’s the other?”
He settled back in his armchair. He said simply “1961/62. Humiliations, farce, scandals, we were a national laughing stock, there were newspaper campaigns to get us thrown out of the League, it was a nightmare. But we came back and showed the lot of ‘em – in spades too! We’ll do it again this time, you’ll see. 1994/95 – Administration, 1995/96 – Promotion.” I laughed out loud. “Well, let me tell you about that season SunBoy, and then see if you think things are any worse now.
“You’ll remember that in the previous season, 1960/61, we’d slid to 15th in the Fourth Division, we’d had Priestfield closed after the referee was assaulted, and new Chairman, Doctor Grossmark, told us that the club was broke and couldn’t pay the players. That was the signal for an exodus during the summer. Pat Terry was sold, Ronnie Bacon, Johnny Shepherd and Fred Morris all moved on, so coming to the start of the season we didn’t have any decent forwards other than Gordon Pulley. The defence in front of Johnny Simpson was not exactly watertight, so we were in trouble even before a ball was kicked. We had to get some fresh blood, especially in the forward line.
“In those days, managers loved signing someone on a Friday, especially on the eve of the season, and Harry Barratt staggered everyone by signing inside-forward Charlie Livesey from Chelsea, for £5,500. We were broke, but amazingly we suddenly shelled out a club record fee. Charlie was class. He oozed skill and charisma, he was full of tricks and he became an instant favourite with everyone. His speciality was to get the ball inside our half, and then dribble through the middle beating man after man and finish with a terrific shot. Great stuff! He didn’t score in the 2-2 draw against Doncaster, but there was enough from the team to suggest that maybe things might not be as bad as we feared.
“How wrong can you be? We took nine straight defeats, eight in the league, and one in the League Cup. The League Cup had been introduced the previous season, but it was not compulsory for all clubs to enter it and the biggest clubs at that time all boycotted it. Only a handful of First Division clubs were in, such that in the first season Gills got a bye in the first round and then lost to Preston after a replay, and this season we were drawn away to Nottingham Forest in the First Round. They fielded most of their reserve side, but still thumped us 4-1, so any chance of some money-making to strengthen the team went out the window. Our eighth straight league defeat was a Wednesday evening humiliation 1-0 by Aldershot and the crowd were getting decidedly restless. One point, rock bottom, the worst start in our history, and a home game with Millwall next up. Something had to be done.
“Once again Barratt, or someone, pulled a rabbit out of the hat and £3,000 was found from somewhere to buy centre-forward Tom Johnston from Leyton Orient. Johnston was 35 and right at the end of his career, but he was a proven goal-scorer and an excellent general who’d be able to harness the explosive talents of Charlie Livesey and Gordon Pulley. Johnston of course had destroyed us in the Cup Tie the previous season, and in 1957/58 he had been the League’s top-scorer with 44 goals. He had a tough baptism with third placed Millwall visiting and expecting to help themselves to an easy win, but as often happens when an awful run finally comes to an end, it’s done in style. Gills completely outplayed The Lions. Johnston scored with a beautiful header to put us ahead, Ray Brady got in a complete mess trying to clear a Pulley thunderbolt and put through his own goal, and although Millwall cut the arrears before half-time, Livesey cracked in a low shot to round off a 3-1 win. With the excitement after that result, you’d have thought we’d won the Cup.
“We weren’t out of the wood by any means though. A 4-0 hammering at Aldershot and a 3-1 defeat at Mansfield left us five points adrift at the bottom – played 12, won 1, drawn 1, lost 10. Two Charlie Livesey goals and another by Tom Johnston saw off Barrow 3-2 in a Wednesday match that kicked off at 5.15pm, so the new signings were doing the business, but we still needed strengthening. Even so, no-one could quite believe it when we just went out and broke the bank again with another Friday evening signing. This time it was inside-forward Ronnie Waldock, bought from Middlesbrough for a new record fee of £6,000. Waldock was a stocky, gritty player, who played slightly behind the others forwards, and he certainly showed what he could do in the 3-1 home win over Bradford City. We were still bottom after that result, but we were back in touch again with the rest of the table. The first part of the nightmare was beginning to lift.”
All this puzzled me a bit. “OK Grandad, you could argue that we did a £5,500 swap of Pat Terry for Charlie Livesey, but if we were broke, how did they come up with £9,000 for Johnston and Waldock?” “I think we all wondered that SunBoy, but I think we were desperate. All the indications were that re-election wasn’t going to be the foregone conclusion it had been in the past, there were some ambitious non-league clubs about. Peterborough had got in at the expense of Gateshead, and Oxford were lobbying hard. We dare not finish in the bottom four. I think the directors went in hock to the bank, and cut costs everywhere they could, particularly the travel costs.
“Those were getting horrendous. In four seasons the balance of twelve clubs from the North and South had been completely skewed such that we now had only four other clubs south of Mansfield – Millwall, Colchester, Aldershot and Exeter, and even that one was a 400 mile round trip. We should have gone to many of the places up north on the Friday and stayed overnight, but to save money we didn’t and travelled early on the day of the game. After hours on trains and coaches, the players weren’t in much of a state to compete, and we took some bad beatings. So, two days after the encouraging win against Bradford City came one of the most embarrassing episodes in the history of the club.
“The fixtures ruled that on Monday, October 9th 1961 we were away to Barrow. Not the easiest place to get to at the best of times, and the only train to get there in time for the 5.15pm kick-off left Euston at 10.00am. To save money, the team went to London by the club coach, which got held up in rush hour traffic in South East London, and they missed the train. The Football League would not countenance a postponement and made it clear that failure to show up for the game could have disasterous consequences, so the only way to make it on time was to charter a plane. They drove to London Airport and there began bartering to be taken to Blackpool, the nearest airport to Barrow. The plane company demanded payment up front, so more delays occurred while banker’s drafts were obtained. The flight finally took off just after two o’clock, and when they touched down at Blackpool the team transferred to a convoy of taxis to complete the last fifty miles round to the Furness peninsula. They hit more traffic problems near Lancaster and finally with a police escort they made it to Holker Street thirty minutes after the scheduled kick-off.
“The team had got changed in the taxis, so they got out, went straight onto the pitch and started the match. The humiliation didn’t abate. Barrow sliced us apart, scoring five without reply in the first half. Holker Street was like Priestfield at the time, one of only a handful of League grounds that didn’t have floodlights, so they turned straight round and continued. It got to 7-0 after seventy-six minutes when the referee had no option but to abandon the match. It was almost completely dark.
“No-one saw the funny side. Rather than save money, the panic arrangements had cost the club the best part of £1,000, but worse the attitude from the media was generally hostile. If clubs like Gillingham cannot properly fulfill their obligations, they blared, then they should make way for others who can – like Oxford United. There was debate about whether the game would have to be replayed, in which case we would have to face another midweek trip at the end of the season. The following Saturday we were away again, at Carlisle – can you imagine a more ironic fixture? Another mess like the Barrow trip didn’t bear thinking about, but we took no chances, travelled the day before, and won 2-1. Defiant to the end!
“The Gills are often at their best with some kind of censure hanging over us, and so it proved on this occasion. The Carlisle win was the start of a seven match unbeaten run which saw us climb out of the bottom four. At home we came from behind to beat leaders Colchester 2-1, Tom Johnston getting the winner with a Terryesque header, and then we thumped fellow-strugglers Hartlepools 4-0 and Accrington Stanley 5-1. Away we prised 1-1 draws at Chester, Southport and Oldham. Along the way we lost 2-0 at Coventry in the Cup, but no-one really cared about that this year. Survival in the League was everything. The Barrow fiasco hovered over all this, and on 11th December the League finally gave their pronouncement. For the first time ever, the score in an unfinished game would be declared the result. The game would not be replayed ‘primarily to recognise the additional financial burden that this would place on the visiting club.’ In other words, official recognition that we couldn’t pay our way! Humiliating, but provided we kept our heads down….
“No such luck. Our next game was away to Doncaster, and watching the teleprinter on Grandstand all the results seemed to be in apart from ours. Then David Coleman explained ‘Now the only match missing is from Belle Vue between Doncaster and Gillingham. Well Gillingham arrived late for that match and it’s not due to finish until about 5.15.’ Oh No!! What timing, and what the hell had happened now. The reason was in fact quite simple. There had been a derailment at Peterborough, and the train which the team were on, due to travel direct from Kings Cross to Doncaster, had been diverted through Cambridgeshire and Lincolnshire and hadn’t got to Doncaster until three o’clock. Fortunately Belle Vue had floodlights, so the match would finish – we lost 2-1 after taking the lead – but this simply wasn’t good enough.
“And didn’t the papers let us know it. Fleet Street were merciless, all publishing stinging editorials along the lines that this sort of thing showed that some clubs clearly couldn’t compete following the removal of the maximum wage, and they would have to cut their cloth accordingly. In other words, pay your way, or get out. The Daily Express went even further, running a ‘Should Gillingham continue as a League Club?’ letters special. I’ve got the ones they published here.” He handed me his scrapbook, in which he’d pasted a full page of the Daily Express, publishing about forty letters. They were devastating.
One after another they said Gillingham should forfeit their League status and return to a level “more suitable” where they would be “able to properly compete”. There were even people that I knew personally, who claimed to be die-hard Gills fans, but who were now exposed as Judases, writing things like “I am a Gillingham supporter but I think it would be better for the club if we returned to the Southern League.” There was one from the Chairman of Oxford United, who arrogantly declared “our club stands ready to take over Gillingham’s league commitments at any time, since they are patently unable to fulfill them themselves.” In all this hostility, there was only one letter which backed us, from a Walsall supporter. “My club has sought re-election several times, and now we are in the Second Division. Lay off Gillingham. They wouldn’t be the first club to get up off the floor and win promotion.”
“So who got it right SunBoy? This Judas from Rochester, or this Judas from Chatham, that arrogant Oxford wallah, or the bloke from Walsall? The League let us off again over Doncaster, but what it meant was that if we finished in the bottom four and had to seek re-election, we were dead. We had a good Christmas, winning 3-1 at Exeter on Boxing Day – we haven’t won there since amazingly – and climbed to fourteenth. But in January and February we slid back into trouble, winning once in eight games. Mind you, in that win, on January 20th against Chesterfield, Charlie Livesey treated me to one of the most magical moments I’ve ever had at Priestfield. He picked the ball up near the Main Stand touchline, dribbled towards the edge of the box, flicked it up over the head of a defender, ran round him, flicked it up over the head of another defender, ran round him, and as the ball dropped onto the penalty spot volleyed it with tremendous power into the Rainham End net. Hats and scarves rained down onto the pitch in tribute. It put us 4-0 up (we won 5-1). After all these years, it’s still my number one Gillingham goal.
“Back to the harsh financial realities, we now come to the farce over our entry into the Kent Senior Cup. Since our return to the league in 1950, we hadn’t bothered with it, paying a £100 exemption fee to the KCFA each season. This season, we said we couldn’t afford to pay it, and we entered the competition instead. We got drawn at home to Folkestone on 10th February. Problem was the KCFA had two specifics to maintain the integrity of the competition – clubs had to play their strongest team, and matches must take place on a Saturday. This meant that the league game scheduled for that day had to be postponed, and effectively placed the Kent Senior Cup at a higher level than, say, the Southern League, in which most of the clubs competed. We were due to play away to Millwall, so after the humiliations of Barrow and Doncaster, did Gills now risk the wrath of the Football League by requesting a postponement so they could play in the First Round of the Kent Senior Cup, or did they play the reserves at The Den to save £100? There were angry words between the Club and the KCFA for weeks, but in the end we played the reserves and lost 4-1. The gate was minimal due to most people going to The Den. The KCFA took an agreed percentage of the gate, and then fined Gills eighty-one pounds twelve shillings and fourpence, being the difference between their gate-share and the £100 we would have paid to them if we’d been exempted. What on earth had that been all about?
“Back at the sharp end, Harry Barratt’s Millwall luck held at The Den. They’d just signed a certain Pat Terry from Northampton to enhance their promotion bid, and we were without Johnny Simpson who’d broken a toe in training the day before. Tubby Alf Bentley deputised, and he played a blinder, defying even Pat Terry. We drew 0-0, and very nearly won it late on when Tom Johnston crashed a shot against the bar. Millwall went on to win the Championship, but they didn’t beat us that year.
“Then, in mid-March, had we been saved? Accrington Stanley resigned from the league. It took everyone by surprise, and their record was expunged, meaning that our 5-1 win didn’t officially exist any more. There was a lot of erudite comment about how Accrington had been the victims of escalating costs and falling gates, and that many others in Football’s Graveyard aka the Fourth Division, would be feeling the pinch. They speculated on who would be next, and needless to say they all came up with Gillingham. Personally, I felt that there was a lot less danger of us getting voted out, as almost certainly Oxford would take Accrington’s place, but not take over their fixtures as that arrogant Chairman offered. They’d have to wait for the League AGM, like everyone else had to.
“It was just as well the pressure now appeared to be off. We had a bad run-in at the end of the season, losing three of the last four games. At Easter, we played Wrexham twice. They’d been very strong at the start of the season, but were now losing ground and needed to beat us to make sure they got promoted. At the Racecourse on Good Friday they scored three in the first quarter of an hour and coasted to a 3-0 win. In the game at Priestfield on Easter Monday they ran out 3-2 winners in a see-saw struggle. Gordon Pulley scored with a trademark thunderbolt after two minutes, they equalised after half an hour, and then latched on to a defensive mistake right on the stroke of half-time. Pulley equalised midway through the second half, but they grabbed the winner with ten minutes left. A decent game with the better side winning, I’d say.
“We played our last game that season on Thursday May 3rd, home to Rochdale. We won an entertaining match 4-2, were always in control, and finished 20th on thirty-seven points. Bert had got his usual inside information about the retained list, and there were plenty on the move, pretty much a purge I’d say. Rumour had it that Harry Barratt was not happy that the directors had made some of the decisions over his head. But the big news came the following day. Harry Barratt resigned. Did he jump? Was he pushed? Who knows? He was gone. It’s difficult to know what to make of Barratt’s reign. He was certainly a one-off and he had little success, but on the other hand he bought to the club some exciting players, and his sides usually scored goals and kept the crowds entertained. Having said that, you won’t find many who weren’t pleased that we were to have a change.
“Then the league announced that with a vacancy following Accrington Stanley’s resignation, only three clubs would have to seek re-election. Assuming we didn’t implode financially, we were safe. We thought the nightmare was over, and we could make a fresh start with a new manager. And then this hit the fan.” He put the scrap-book on my lap, open at a page where he’d pasted the back page of the News Of The World. Photos of England’s training sessions in Chile ahead of the World Cup had been pushed to one side to accommodate the headline “Did Gills Players take Bribes?” Four were named and accused of accepting bribes to lose the Easter games against Wrexham. Grandad was right about a nightmare. Could it get any worse than this?
(Next – The Ruthless Messiah)
Eccles
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