Cod Almighty | Article

by Tom Allen

16 December 2008

I wanted to relate this tale about big George McLean who played for the Mariners, Exeter City, Workington and Barrow, among others. I discovered the story in an old newspaper cutting, as well as finding it mentioned in a book entitled Football Strangest Matches.

In the 1969-70 season George had moved on from the 'fashionable' surrounds of Workington and Grimsby to the less serene environment of Barrow's Holker Street, the knacker's yard for all the north-west's not-quite-made-it footballers.

On this particular Saturday in February 'Big' George was playing centre forward for his new club Barrow against Plymouth Argyle. The story recounts the experience of a lone Argyle supporter who had made the tortuous trip to Barrow from one end of the country to another by train, having made about 17 changes en route on a wet, miserable day.

Imagine the scene. We join the match as it reaches the 89th minute. The Plymouth fanatic is stood by himself on the part of the terracing reserved for away supporters. His team had been on the attack throughout the game. Barrow had barely been in Plymouth's half, so dominant were the southern side. They have hit the crossbar nine times and the post 12 times and have had 34 shots kicked off the line, as well as having 22 goals disallowed for offside. And still can't manage to score.

Then out of the blue Big George, amazingly for the first time in the game, finds the ball at his feet in the opposition's half and about 40 yards from goal. He swings his boot at the ball and the said spherical object is going the way many of George's shots did: towards the corner flag...

...when suddenly, the ball, on its wayward journey, strikes the referee's head and - YES! - the ball ricochets into the top corner of the Argyle net. One-nil to Barrow, and shortly afterwards the referee whistles to signal the end of the game.

Imagine how our friend from Plymouth felt when he trudged his way back to the railway station. His beloved team had been robbed by a freak goal scored by the ref. The return journey home must have seemed like a forthcoming nightmare.

But sadly for him his misery was not complete. After jumping on a train and finding an available compartment (which was in a carriage without a corridor) he noted he had just one travelling companion sitting in the corner. His fellow traveller was reading a newspaper and his face was partially hidden.

As the train pulled out of the station on its way to Crewe the traveller lowered his newspaper, revealing his identity. Who was it? No, it wasn't Big George! Yes, you've guessed it. It was the referee!

I wondered what they talked about over the ensuing miles!