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Division One 1968-69

They weren't very popular but Don Revie's Leeds United side were certainly effective. James Calder takes a look back at their first League success

The long-term significance
This was Leeds United’s first League title. Developing what Geoffrey Green of the Times described as a “cult of collective anonymity”, the meticulous Don Revie shaped a resilient yet ruthless side that had won few friends since gaining promotion in 1964. But among the grit were regular flashes of brilliance. That, and their ability to absorb punishment and counter-attack to great effect, earned them general recognition as worthy champions. After their near-misses in previous seasons, championship success allowed Revie’s side to adopt a more expansive style. And though the “dirty” tag remained and only one more League title would follow, their consistency and organisation provided a blueprint that other less gifted teams tried to copy, Arsenal among them.

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Letters, WSC 279

Dear WSC
In his article on football in film (WSC 278) Rob Hughes quite rightly says that the most convincing football scene ever takes place in Ken Loach’s classic 1969 film Kes. I attended the school that Barry Hines, author of a Kestrel For A Knave, worked in as a teacher. Mr Sugden, while probably never acknowledged by Hines, is clearly based on our old games teacher, Ron “Rocket Ronnie” Hallam. Ron was driven by a will to win at all costs and a classic Ronnie-ism was said to me when I tried out for the school team as an 11-year-old, “goalkeeping’s an art son”. I can still hear him say those words. In fairness to Ronnie he was right. I was never much of a footballer but was occasionally prone to bouts of brilliance. One such example came against Rocket Ron. He was playing a sweeper role when a ball was played forward for me to run on to. I pushed the ball past Ronnie and advanced on goal, easily rounded the full-back and slotted the ball under the advancing goalie. As I wheeled away, delighted with my goal, Ronnie was whistling furiously. He was yelling “offside, offside”. When I said that was rubbish he sent me off for arguing with the ref. Ronnie Hallam may well have been too keen to win at times but he was fantastically knowledgeable about football and cricket, and we didn’t waste much time on cross-country running. Some of Ronnie’s protégés went on to play professionally – the Shirtliff brothers turned out for Sheffield Wednesday among others and Steve Shutt played for Barnsley. Ian Swallow passed up football for a pretty successful cricketing career with Yorkshire. I guess one big disappointment was that Ronnie’s son, Matthew, never reached those heights. Rocket Ronnie though. A living legend.
John Hague, Leicester

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In the heat of the moment

No other World Cup hosts have been knocked out in such extreme circumstances as Switzerland in 1954. Paul Joyce looks back at the tournament's highest-scoring match

The 1954 World Cup is mainly remembered for West Germany’s 3-2 victory over favourites Hungary in the final. But the quarter-final between Switzerland and Austria, the so-called Hitzeschlacht von Lausanne (Heat Battle of Lausanne), is if anything even more noteworthy. Not only was it played in intolerable weather conditions but it remains the highest-scoring game in World Cup finals history.

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Drastic measures

Joel Richards reports on the continuing difficulties in controlling Argentinian groups, both inside and outside the country

“I paid up,” shrugged Oscar Ruggeri. “I paid up loads of times,” admitted the World Cup winner on national television. As other guests on set were dismayed at his honesty, Ruggeri calmly replied. “What do you want me to do, lie? I had to pay up, but I didn’t give any money in 1986. I had just moved from Boca to River and they burnt my house down. What else could they do to me?”

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Spirit of the game

This part of east Africa has a deep love of football, both in domestic and international terms. Andy Ryan reports

It’s a title decider. Red Sea FC, the traditional giants of the Eritrean game, will be champions if they beat struggling Tesfa. A whisper in my right ear says: “Watch Red Sea’s number eight, he has much talent.” Less than 20 seconds later, number eight dispossesses a defender, rounds the keeper and gives Red Sea the lead. The baseball cap-wearing Nostradamus smiles.

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