ver in the
history of football of the present time has such a brilliant man arisen.
He has so many remarkable points that I cannot tell them in a brief
notice, but as he is still playing well, spectators are at one in
admitting his grand ability.
~M. Paton (Dumbarton).~
The match under review was Mr. Paton's second appearance against
England, and he acquitted himself very well. Somehow or other the
committee of selection in International matches, while they honestly do
their duty, sometimes move in a mysterious way, and the selection of Mr.
Paton to stand alongside Mr. Arnott in this contest was, at the time,
considered somewhat risky. Not by any means because Mr. Paton was not a
good back, but in consequence of the diversity of play shown by the
pair. Mr. Paton was nothing if he was not allowed a little latitude, and
in some of the matches he came off with flying colours. Arnott and he,
however, acted well together. To give Mr. Paton his due, he was a most
gentlemanly young fellow, and did his very best for the game.
~J. J. Gow (Queen's Park).~
It has just occurred to me, and I can't see how the illustration might
not with equal force be applied to football as in the honest range of
every-day life, that if a "round-robin" were sent about the clubs that
tackled the Q.P. in their best matches in the past decade, I am certain
that the verdict about the man who was most feared in all the elevens,
the name of Mr. J. J. Gow would come out first. He was, in fine, a
half-back that the Q.P. had reason to feel proud. Half-backs might come
and go--as they undoubtedly did--but Gow seemed in his football career
to go on for ever. The most mysterious thing about him was that he was
always in the same form, and never had any practice. Football at
half-back seemed to come to him by nature, and cost him no effort. He
could return splendidly, but at close tackling, and in clearing the ball
away, he was sometimes a little slack, and had to make it up by sheer
force of hard work.
~Alexander Hamilton (Queen's Park).~
Not long ago, while "doing" a match at Hampden Park (I think it was Q.P.
v. Battlefield, in the Glasgow Cup), I met my old friend in the pavilion
looking on and enjoying the sport. Like the M'Neils, the Hamiltons are a
football family, and while Mr. James, who is now an active member of the
present Q.P., will come under my pen later on, I have only at present to
deal with Mr. Alexander. Well, he was somethin
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