Chapter 10. Inside Wing Men - The Brains of the Team

On the first occasion on which a transfer fee of two thousand pounds was paid for a footballer, an inside forward was the player concerned - Horace Barnes. In due course a record transfer fee of ten thousand pounds was paid for David Jack. The first fifteen thousand fee was handed over for Bryn Jones; the first twenty-five thousand fee for Eddie Quigley. In the spring of 1951 Sheffield Wednesday sprang to the previously unheard of fee of £34,000 to secure the services of Jackie Sewell.

Don't get alarmed by that serial story of the steadily rising prices. I am not, at the moment, even thinking of entering into a discussion as to whether any one footballer can possibly be worth anything like that amount of money. The point is that a football club only pays for a footballer what it thinks that footballer will be worth to it. What the story does tell, in the plainest possible language, is that right down the history of transfers, the inside wing men are the fellows who have been there when new record fees were established. It couldn't be just coincidence that each time new transfer figures were set up an inside forward was at auction. The facts as set out must mean that in the old days, through the years, and right up to the present time, inside forwards are the most highly valued members of the side, and the most difficult to find. Let that be the over-riding thought in anything which is said about the inside men. (For the sake of simplicity the use of the words inside forwards will apply, for immediate purposes, to the inside wing players).

With all due respect to the other members of a football side, and even while insisting that thought must be put into the game by any and every player, it isn't going too far to say that the inside forwards are the brains of the team. The best of the inside forwards, if asked by a young player for the secret of their success, would put a ringer to their heads as they replied: 'That's where you want it!' Brains - in the football sense - are the first requisite of the inside forwards. They must be the quick thinkers, the fellows who solve the football problems in the shortest possible time.

Accepting brains as their chief qualification, there is interest in speculation as to the physical type most likely to make good. Recently a sort of footballer census was started at St. Andrews with a view to testing whether there were set physical types for various positions on the football field. A questionnaire was sent to the big clubs asking for weight, height and various measurements of the members of their playing staffs. So far, I have no information as to what the answers to this questionnaire proved - if they proved anything at all. I shan't be surprised, however, if the evidence in general makes the point that the sturdy, strong little fellows usually turn out to be the best inside forwards. If this proves to be anything approaching a rule, it is open to the qualification of all rules: there are exceptions to it.

Big transfer fee man Harold Hassall is one. There have been many others, including long-legged David Jack, lately the manager of Middlesbrough, and Charlie Buchan. What a fortunate fellow I was to have had, as inside partners, two of the greatest the game has known in my time.

Even as I think of these long-legged inside men, the little inside fellows who have adorned the game come to mind. The list is too long to be set out in full, but it includes Billy Steel, Eddie Baily, Wilfred Mannion, Ernest Taylor, Alex James, Jackie Bestall, and Jimmy Logie. It may be that these and other pint-sized players, realizing that they hadn't much chance of using their heads except for thinking, came to the conclusion that their only hope was to make greater use of their bodies and to become cleverer than their rivals with their feet. That's the plain truth. The inside forward who can't develop on those lines would be well advised to use his ability in other positions.

In recent times few players have received so much attention, or been given such honorable mention, as did Tommy Harmer on his spasmodic appearances in the Tottenham Hotspur first team last season. All told, there's only a trifle over nine stone of him. But he is master of as many tricks as a whole wagon-load of monkeys. He isn't sturdy, and lacking strength of leg, he can't fire the ball at the goal with any considerable force. But he can make openings for others by side-stepping and other controlled accomplishments which get defenders at sixes and sevens. I wonder what his value in the transfer market would be if, in addition to his other qualities, he possessed the bullet-drive of a Joe Smith. But you can't have everything.

What does stand out is that there is almost endless scope for variety in the play and players in these inside positions. In the physical sense Alex James - a daddy of all the inside forwards in his own particular style - and Jimmy Logie are as alike as two peas. I get rather tired, however, of the oft-repeated statement that Jimmy Logie is another Alex James. He isn't. Those two players can do the same sort of things with their bodies and with the ball, but James used to do his stuff almost standing still. He would trick an opponent or two and then make the pass, scarcely ever going sufficiently far forward to get in a telling shot at goal. Logie, on the other hand, goes forward. I know he doesn't score many more goals than did James, but he makes the goals for others by keeping on the move, with the final short pass to a comrade.

The game has changed a bit in relation to what is expected of the inside forwards, even in the short time since James was a star. The 'W" formation of the attack has become obsolete to a considerable extent. In its place has come a better idea for defeating defensive tactics. This idea is for at least four forwards to go well up, with one inside man - either inside right or inside left - a little back according to the development of the particular attacking movement.

Nothing has happened to the game, however - and I don't believe anything will happen to it in the near future - to save the inside men wearing down the studs of their boots in a shorter time than other members of a team. The pendulum of my grandfather clock provides a continual illustration of the work of inside forwards: swinging this way and that, backwards and forwards as the seconds tick off, always on the move. That is how they should respond to the play - if they are doing a complete job. And this metaphor applies - or should do so - to all grades of football.

A few months back I saw an International match. At inside left in the England side was a comparative newcomer, a player of great promise who has nearly every fine quality. In the course of the play an attack was developed by the right wing of the opponents of this English side. The development was such that a goal resulted in due course. As the ball was sent into the net I looked around for the inside left. He was standing quite still in his opponents' half of the field: just an interested spectator. Of course, he should have been back in his own half of the field, first of all challenging the opponents who were developing the attack, helping the defence. I wasn't the only one who noticed that the pendulum had stopped working. The name of that particular player was missing from the next England eleven, and has been missing from it ever since. It will go back - because he is a really good footballer -when he learns that the inside man can't be a drone at any time.

Suppose, in relation to that incident from the International match, the attack by the other fellows had been checked by a defender around the penalty area. This player couldn't have got the ball to the inside forward away in the far half of the field. If, on the other hand, the inside forward had come back - as he should have done - the ball could have been passed to him, and he would have been able to start a movement towards the other goal.

As the inside forwards are to a considerable extent the fetchers and carriers, it follows that the brains must be used too in taking up position to receive the ball. It was said of Peter Doherty, when at his best and busiest, that he always seemed to have plenty of time to get the ball under control. This meant that he was ever mindful of seeking the open space, in short, he was in position to receive the ball.

Peter developed a way of getting the ball down, which pays a good dividend for any amount of time spent in practice by 'catching' it on the instep. As the ball drops the instep of the raised foot gives, and thus can hold the ball for a fraction of a second. I have seen Doherty even beat an opponent, by swivelling on the sole of one foot while he caught the ball on the instep of the other foot.

The inside forward can't do much with the ball until he gets it down and under control. Having gained possession, he is then ready to make progress; and the quicker he makes it the better.

Opponents will soon be there, of course, and to beat them he must resort to body swerve and tricks. I have already told how swerve and balance can be improved, and have also mentioned something about ball control. I should be happy if I could teach the tricks which are an essential part of the stock in trade of the inside forward. I am afraid it can't be done, however. It isn't possible, for instance, to set down on paper the recipe for selling the dummy, for sending the opponent the wrong way.

There are little things which can be learnt, on the practice field, which help you to diddle the opposition. There's the art of varying pace while on the run, with the ball close to the feet - a disturbing skill to the opponent who is running alongside, on the look-out for the moment to make the effective tackle. You take a few quick steps; then suddenly slow-up, knowing your opponent can't follow suit because he doesn't know, until too late, when you're going into lower gear. Watch Stanley Mortensen do this. The Blackpool man can go as fast as anyone in the game at the present time, but he is also a master of the art of changing pace while on the run.

Then there is the dummy kick, the foot being quickly passed over the ball instead of connecting with it. The effect is to induce the opponent to hesitate, 'kidding' him that the intention is to put the ball inside. He moves that way and, immediately he does this, the player still in possession of the ball carries on along his original patch. I expect many of my young readers, who go to see the stars from time to time, have noticed that quite a number of them use this dummy kick to deceive their opponents. The trick isn't easy to master. But it can be done, and is certainly among the tricks worth giving time and patience to learn.

By the way, when watching the experts in any game, try not to let the general run of the play overpower you. If you want to make good as an inside forward, when you go to watch a match keep your mind on the inside forwards. How do they do this? Why do they do that? There is much to be learnt by watching the experts. Nor is it a bad idea to watch alongside somebody who knows; at whom the questions why and how can be fired. I have known managers of football clubs take with them, to several matches in succession, their promising young players. The manager puts the budding star next to him and explains to the learner the why and the wherefore throughout the game.

Back to our inside forward! Let us suppose the inside man gets plenty of the ball and works up the field with it, dodging one opponent after another. He isn't on his own, however. There are colleagues to right and to left, maybe in front, to whom the ball can be passed. In the places where first-class footballers foregather a phrase is often used which I have never seen in any of the textbooks. That phrase is 'a poke with the toe'. This is a most useful short pass which can be made easily and accurately. Just as the opponent conies in to tackle, when he thinks he has a chance of gaining the ball, the player in possession shoots out a foot, puts the toe of the boot against the middle of the ball and thus 'pokes' it to a near-by colleague. The ball keeps close to the ground, and there is no spin to be mastered by the player receiving it.

Passing with the inside of the boot has a similar effect, but the inside of the boot can't very well be applied when the leg is stretched out. The outside of the boot can also be used to beat an opponent or to make a pass, but the effective flick with the outside of the boot is far from easy, because it isn't a natural movement. Part of the success of Eddie Baily of the Spurs is due to the fact that he can make better use of the flick with the outside of the boot than most other players.

Included in the inside man's box of tricks is one which any player can do, and which may be described as making the pass without touching the ball. The outside man passes the ball to his partner. The inside man goes through all the motions of taking the pass, but at the last moment, as his opponent closes in, he steps over the ball, allowing it to run on. The trouble with this dodge is that it often comes unstuck because the player for whom the ball is intended isn't ready for it. The fault isn't with the trick, however, and the inside man can help it to come off if he gives the word to the fellow on the other side of him.

Thinking all the time, all the time getting the ball, the inside forward should assess the merits of the opposing defenders. Is there a weak spot in that defence? Has the centre-forward the measure of the opposing centre-half? Is his wing partner being mastered by the full-back? On the answer to these questions, which should come to the brain of the inside forward almost automatically, his tactics must depend. The inside forward is also the fellow who has the most favourable chance of beating the offside trap, should his opponents be inclined to play that risky game. By hanging on to the ball in the quick run through, rather than passing it, the inside forward will make those advancing defenders think again.

I am quite convinced that modern play, in general, calls for direct action by the insiders. Jackie Sewell is the type I have in mind to carry out the tactics - though there is room in the game for the Len Shackleton type, the ultra-clever player who can make rings round his opponents. But even this Sunder-land player has responded to the current call for more direct action. What seems to me very clear is that there is no room in the modern forward line for two inside men of what are called the 'diddler' type. One of the two must be a quick mover, splitting open the defence by varied play.

Part of the tactics of direct action is the scoring of goals. It will take a lot of people a long time to forget the goal which Sammy Smyth scored for the Wolves in the Cup Final of 1949. It came as the outcome of a wonderful individual effort in the course of which this quick-moving inside man promised more than once to pass the ball to a fellow forward, without ever fulfilling the promise.

Mention of Sammy Smyth offers a good example of how an inside forward can put new life into an attack. In the early stages of the 1951-2 season Stoke City played eleven matches from which only two points - in drawn games - were obtained. Smyth joined the club, and the next five matches were all won. Ivor Broadis, another of the stocky little fellows, brought about a similar change in the fortunes of Manchester City at about the same time.

It isn't surprising that the inside forwards are considered to be worth their weight in gold. And if they take their place at the head of the queue on pay-day they can be forgiven. Having done all they should do, they will have earned their keep.

During the match they will have bobbed up all over the place. They will have shown that they had complete understanding with their wing partners by inter-changing positions from time to time. If they have done their job they will probably have a headache - the consequence of long and hard thinking, of thinking all the time till the final whistle blows.