kushiro

This is a response to a request I got from @SecretPro for some information about a friend whose grandfather played for Leicester just after World War 2 - a player called Bobbie Anderson. I was going to send a photo and a bit of background information, but as is so often the case, once you start looking into something, you find yourself tumbling down the rabbit hole and finding out all kinds of fascinating stuff. @SouthStandUpperTier, @davieG and @Rain King provided some useful info and a photo yesterday, but I thought I'd give this a thread all of its own as it really needs it to tell the story in full. June 1944 Leicester manager Tom Bromilow knew he had to start planning for the end of the War, which everyone was praying would come sooner rather than later. Unlike the first War, the club had not lost players in the fighting, but it had suffered massively in other ways. A German bomb had damaged the main stand (and German POWs had helped repair it). A fire had then completely ruined half of that stand and all the equipment inside, damage that the club couldn't afford to repair (and wouldn't have been allowed to anyway, with post-war resource shortages). The City Council then told them they may have to leave Filbert Street, with the land needed by the Electricity Board. And most of the club's directors had been banned for life after under-the-counter payments had been exposed. It was truly a dark hour. But Tom Bromilow knew he just had to get on with the job. He liked nothing better than getting on a train and heading for some far-off destination to seek out new talent. In June 1944, he went north, first to Glasgow, and then on his way back, to Middlesbrough. In Scotland he visited a club called Mearns Amateurs, and spotted a 15 year-old winger called Robert Anderson. In Middlesbrough, he saw our new nursery club Middlesbrough Swifts in action, and it was 16 year-old Donald Revie who caught his eye. Don, as he was known, and Bobbie (or sometimes 'Bobby'), as he was known, soon headed for trials at Filbert Street, and both impressed. Years later, Revie wrote about the moments after he first stepped off the train at Leicester Station: I wandered forlornly around Leicester with my football boots wrapped in brown paper under my arm. I walked round and round the shops, then hastily gulped down a cup of tea in a small café’. He was soon in action, wearing a City shirt for the first time in a 2-2 draw v Wolves at Filbert Street, the first game of the 1944/45 season, which was still organized into regional Leagues. Bobbie Anderson's arrival in the city may have been very similar, but in his case, the chance to play for Leicester would have to wait. He was an apprentice fitter-engineer, and it wasn't until January 1945 that he was fixed up with a company in Leicester where he could continue the apprenticeship. 1945/46 With the war over, football could get back to normal again. Though not immediately. The Football League decided that 1945/46 would be a transition season, still based on regional divisions. Leicester City had a new manager. Tom Bromilow had quit in March, and Tom Mather had just taken over. It can be unsettling when the man responsible for bringing you to a club suddenly moves on, but Mather knew a thing or two about wingers. When he was Stoke CIty manager in the early 1930s he had signed 15 year-old Stanley Matthews. On Saturday August 11th, Bobbie turned 17, and on that day Leicester City held their first post-war trial match, 'Blues v Whites', to see who would start the game at home to Charlton Athletic, scheduled for two weeks later. Bobbie and Don played in the trial, but only Don was selected for that first game, which Charlton won 3-2. The return match at The Valley a week later was also lost. Wondering who could freshen things up, Tom Mather went to watch Leicester Colts (the youth team) on Wednesday September 5th, with Bobbie in the line-up against Ibstock Penistone Rovers. He must have impressed Mather as the next day, the boss told him to join the first team squad for their third game of the season, away at Brentford. He was supposedly just along for the experience, but then left winger Fred Crack of Grimsby Town, due to turn out for us as a guest, was suddenly called back to his army base in Germany - which meant Bobbie Anderson's big moment had arrived. To call his first team debut 'sensational' would not be an exaggeration. This was the how the Daily News, then one of the leading national newspapers, reported the game: The Leicester Evening Mail called him a 'boy star', and said his teammates 'mobbed' him when he set up that first goal. Here's the Middlesex Chronicle, with an entertaining passage I'll quote at length: It was one of those affairs when one team exerts four-fifths of the pressure and the other lot snatch the goals. When Leicester full back Dai Jones, as a sort of advanced goalpost (and with no more intention than if he had indeed been one of those inanimate pillars) turned away a terrific smash by Les Smith, I thought it was going to be one of those days. That was a mere four minutes from the start, but the premonition was soon justified. When Leicester won a corner, the ball was most meticulously middled by Bobbie Anderson, and it was met by the head of Liddle to send it curling on a 12 yard journey into the net. It was 2-0 at the interval and in the second half the ball stayed in the City half for such long periods that the Bees might have been kicking down a one-in-three slope. A week later, that reporter was still writing about the same game: Many a young player has been ruined by too much fulsome praise, and we had an instance last week when Anderson, making his debut after a Colts' appearance the previous evening, was hailed by one writer, with the imagination of a film star's press agent, as Scotland's next Alan Morton. He made a most promising debut, but to start measuring him up for an international cap on the basis of one appearance is verging on the ridiculous. Let's hope the lad takes no notice. On the opposite wing that day was Don Revie, and supplying them both from the middle of the park was City legend Sep Smith, then in his 17th year at Filbert Street. Tom Mather certainly wasn't going to let the attention go to Bobbie's head. He chose him for just a handful of games that season, unlike Don Revie, who was becoming a regular, playing in the club's first FA Cup game for seven years, a third round defeat against Chelsea. 1946/47 The transition was over, and the Football League was finally back to normal. We had yet another new boss - Johnny Duncan, the wizard of Leicester's forward line in the 1920s who had since been running the Turk's Head pub, opposite the prison. Just like the previous season, we lost our first two games without Bobbie, then he came in for game three. In the record books, this is considered his 'real' Leicester City debut - the transitional season deemed 'unofficial'. Could he have the same impact as at Brentford? Once again, it was a tough-looking away game in London - at Upton Park. And once again, he was sensational. This was the Leicester Evening Mail: The same reporter added: Opportunities for Leicester became fewer later on, but the 17 year-old Scot with the twinkling feet and quick-thinking brain, never ceased to be a problem to the West Ham defence. 2-0 was the final score. Once again, though, this was only a brief flash of Bobbie's talent. He played a total of 13 games that season, without adding to his goal tally. Meanwhile, Don Revie was continuing to establish his reputation. 1947/48 A season of frustration for Bobbie (who made only six appearances, scoring once against Millwall) and for Revie, out for six months with a broken ankle that was so bad that doctors were almost certain he'd never play again. One bright spot for Bobbie came in a reserve game against Spurs: 1948/49 In the four years since Tom Bromilow's scouting trip brought them to Filbert Street, the careers of Bobbie and Don had gradually diverged. Revie had now made a miraculous recovery from his injury, and was an indispensable member of the City side that mounted a historic bid for the FA Cup this season, despite struggling at the wrong end of the Second Division. Bobbie's lot was very different. With the quarter-final approaching, he had not made a single first team appearance all season. But then suddenly he sensed an opportunity. That quarter-final was at a venue which held special memories for him - Griffin Park, Brentford. In the days leading up to the game, regular left winger Charlie Adam was struggling to be fit, and there was speculation in the press about who would replace him - Bobbie Anderson, or Jim Dawson (Bobbie's best mate). On the Friday morning, Adam passed a fitness test, but then just as it seemed Leicester would be able to field their regular forward line, Adam was handed a telegram from Scotland with dramatic news. His mother had been rushed to hospital and was 'dangerously ill'. The club were prepared to let him travel north, and it seemed that a replacement would be needed after all. But Adam insisted on playing, and he stayed with the Leicester squad. His mother died that night, and on Saturday, Adam lined up alongside Revie as City tried to reach the semi-finals for only the second time. Bobbie Anderson wasn't needed. This is what happened: Adam left for Scotland immediately after the final whistle. In the semi-final we shocked First Division leaders Portsmouth at Highbury (arguably our greatest ever result in the competition) - and so we had finally made it to Wembley. Don Revie then suffered a freak injury against West Ham, and this time it was not just his career but his life that was in danger. He had punctured a vein at the back of his nose, and he needed a series of blood transfusions at the Royal Infirmary to take him out of danger. There was no way he'd be ready for the Cup Final. As that was confirmed, just three days before the final, there was a milestone moment at Filbert Street - Sep Smith's last ever appearance on the ground, for the reserves against Bournemouth. Also playing that day was Bobbie Anderson, and it was his run from midfield that led to City being awarded a penalty, from which Sep Smith scored. He didn't know it then, but that was also Bobbie's last game at Filbert Street. Three days later, he was at Wembley to watch us lose heroically to Wolves, 3-1, while Don Revie was listening to radio commentary in his bed at the Infirmary. In the week following the Final, the local press had good and bad news about Bobbie. On Wednesday came reports that he was one of eight players placed on the transfer list. He was no longer wanted at Filbert Street. But somebody wanted him. The following day came news of Bobbie's engagement. The big day would be June 25th, and this was his bride-to-be: Here's Leicester Chronicle from July 2nd reporting on the wedding: Don Revie was planning his wedding too - his bride Elsie was the niece of Leicester boss Johnny Duncan. When another City player, Jimmy Harrison, married Doreen Shipman, daughter of the club chairman Len, he had been barracked by City fans, who suspected he was getting favourable treatment. Don didn't want to suffer the same fate, and told the club he wanted a transfer. In November 1949 he got his wish, with a move to Hull, though by then Duncan had moved on himself. So the Leicester careers of Don Revie and Bobbie Anderson overlapped almost exactly - arriving in summer 1944 and leaving early in the 1949/ 50 season. Revie went on to enjoy great success as player and manager, and to have numerous books and documentaries devoted to describing every moment of his life. Bobbie Anderson was almost completely forgotten, but as you can see from that post-war period in which he shone briefly yet brightly, his story is well worth telling.

One day in 1997, after Leicester City decided they had to leave Filbert Street, Chief Executive Barrie Pierpoint was standing in a field in Aylestone, forming pictures in his mind. Above him ran Soar Valley Way, the road that leads from Glen Parva out towards the motorway. On the far side of the field, the River Soar was rolling gently along, separated from the canal by just a tiny slither of land. 'It's the perfect place for the new stadium', he thought. 'Easy access to the M1, not too far from the city centre, a beautiful spot'. It was one of several potential sites the club had identified after discussions with Leicester City Council. As he stood contemplating the club's future, Barrie was probably unaware of it, but on that very spot, 44 years earlier, one of the darkest episodes in the post-war history of Leicester was unfolding - and it was connected to his own family history. Around that time, Barrie's father changed the spelling of their name. It was originally 'Pierrepoint', but he decided to shorten it to 'Pierpoint', attempting to conceal the connection to a certain Albert Pierrepoint, a distant relative. Who was Albert Pierrepoint? He was the UK's most famous hangman, who carried out the last execution at Leicester Prison in 1953, after Irishman Joseph Reynolds was sentenced to death for murdering 12 year-old Janet Warner. This is what happened: May 22nd 1953 The football season had just finished, and despite Arthur Rowley topping the goalscoring charts, Leicester City had yet again failed to achieve their primary objective - promotion back to Division One. It was in the following days that Jospeh Reynolds began his macabre daily ritual. He was employed at Leicester Gas Works, just south of Filbert Street, and after work he would walk along the canal footpath to Aylestone, looking for a likely candidate. He spotted Dennis Goodger, who was on his way home to Gwencole Crescent, off Narborough Road, from the building job he was working on near the County Arms in Blaby. The next day, and for several days after that, Reynolds returned to the same spot along the canal, and each time he saw the same man. Finally, on May 22nd, he was ready. When Goodger walked past that day, he would put his plan into action. But Goodger didn't turn up. Fortunately for him, his job in Blaby had finished the day before. The plan was stymied. Tragically for Janet Warner, Reynolds quickly decided to find an alternative victim. She was strangled, and her body dumped near the canal in Glen Parva. Reynolds was soon arrested, and sentenced to death five months later. On November 17th, a scene that had been observed many times over the previous 100 years played out for the last time - a large crowd gathering outside the walls of Leicester Prison, awaiting confirmation of the execution. Among them was none other than Dennis Goodger, who spoke to a reporter from the Leicester Evening Mail about his narrow escape. 'He was there every day at the same place. And he always asked me the time. Every day I gave the same answer: 'It's just turned five o'clock'. He used to give me a strange out-of-this-world look and I became more and more suspicious'. At 9.10 a.m. the chief warder opened the main gates of the prison and pinned up the notice stating that the sentence of death had been carried out. 'Pierrepoint', the Mail said, 'was the executioner'. That's how people referred to him. He didn't need a first name - everyone knew who he was. It had been nine years since the previous execution in the city, a double hanging in 1944. Albert Pierrepoint was there that day too, and he might have been busier in the intervening years had it not been for the efforts of one man. That was Dr. Arthur Colahan, an Irishman from Galway who had worked in Leicester since the 1920s. He was often called to murder trials to offer his expert opinion on the sanity or otherwise of the accused. On one particular occasion, that evidence proved crucial. Saturday January 24th 1948 It was a huge day for Leicester City - drawn at home against Sheffield Wednesday in the Fourth Round of the FA Cup. At 2 p.m., supporters heading to Filbert Street from the city centre may not have paid too much attention to a taxi picking up two passengers at the Grand Hotel. Josef Zawadaski and his former partner Joan Mills told the driver to take them to Kitchener Road near Spinney Hill Park. At Filbert Street, far more than the usual number of police were on duty. They had been struggling to keep order for several hours as huge numbers gathered, excited by the prospect of a Cup run, and perhaps Leicester's first visit to Wembley. Half an hour before kick-off the gates were closed, leaving thousands outside. One entrance at the Spion Kop end was then smashed and fans surged into the ground without paying. Police somehow managed to form a barrier and prevent even more getting in. This was how Filbert Street had looked at 12.30: Calls may have been made to Charles Street police HQ, asking for reinforcements, but just at that moment it became apparent that a drama of a different nature was unfolding across town in Kitchener Road. When that taxi arrived, Zawadski suddenly produced a gun. He shot Mills, killing her instantly, then tried to shoot himself in the head, but failed. At Filbert Street, Leicester beat Sheffield Wednesday 2-1 with two famous goals - Walter Harrison after a '40 yard dribble' and Jimmy Haines from 25 yards. In the local papers on Monday two stories dominated - the fall-out from the shooting on Kitchener Road, and the draw for the last 16 of the FA Cup. Leicester were given a tie away to fellow Second Division side Tottenham Hotspur. By the time Zawadski's case came to trial on March 16th, Leicester were out of the Cup. They would have to wait another year for their first ever visit to Wembley. In court, Dr. Arthur Colahan testified that at the time of the shooting, he believed that Zawadski was suffering from 'manic depressive anxiety'. His evidence was crucial - without it, Zawadski would have been given the death penalty, and Pierrepoint would have been back in town. In fact, this was not the first time Dr. Colahan had played such a role. Before that double hanging in 1944 mentioned above, he had testified on behalf of one of the defendants, William Cowie, who was suffering, he said, from 'depressive insanity'. But on this occasion his testimony couldn't prevent a death sentence being handed down, and Pierrepoint was called for (at that time, as an assistant, with his uncle Thomas in charge shortly before he retired). Back in 1931 Dr. Colahan had testified on behalf of Annie Robson, a Leicester nurse charged with the murder of a patient. He said he had interviewed her in prison and declared her 'insane'. The jury found her guilty, but due to her insanity, she escaped the death penalty. So that's three occasions over a period of 17 years when he tried to save someone from the noose. It's tempting to think that, above any considerations about a defendant's state of mind, Dr. Colahan was motivated simply by an abhorrence of the death penalty. Maybe he simply wanted to save lives. When you look at his life story, it's easy to see why that would have meant so much to him. August 17th 1912 Long before Arthur Colahan left Ireland and came to Leicester to begin his medical practice, his brother Roly lost his life in a tragic accident on Lough Corrib in County Galway. Roly and his friend Oswald Fisher went out in a sailing boat in windy conditions, and the vessel was quickly in trouble. A strong gust blew the boat over on its side, and the two stripped naked and dived into the water, several hundred yards from the shore. The heartbreaking story of what happened next appeared in the Galway Express: That's how Arthur Colahan lost his brother. Several years later, after he moved to Leicester, he wrote a song dedicated to Roly's memory, the lyrics full of allusions to the tragedy on Lough Corrib. He called the song Galway Bay. It became a massive hit in Ireland, the UK and the USA. This is the Leicester Evening Mail from May 1948: Arthur Colahan died in 1952. Now another great Irish songwriter has died, and his song, which tips its hat to the boys of the NYPD choir and to Colahan's song, is everywhere (even more so than usual). Colahan isn't short of recognition either. This is his plaque in Prebend Street: