The fortunes of war were unkind to Bolton. In a first half so quiet that a butterfly could drift across the pitch in search of the nearest cabbage, Griffiths supplied one of football’s small tragedies by turning the ball into his own net, and McKay compounded it by striking the post from the penalty spot. Without those two mishaps Bolton might well have shared the points and begun their Second Division life in far better spirits.
West Ham, though, had the sharper edge. Victor Watson was in far closer harmony with his colleagues than Milsom, and after the interval Bolton’s tall, supple leader drifted repeatedly into the grasp of Barrett — who, portly and implacable, played as though he were a third back from first whistle to last. Neither defence truly convinced, but Barrett stood out as the dominant figure, with Church next in line. In Collins’s absence it was Barrett who held together a back line still finding its bearings. Thorpe, Anderson and Robson are newcomers who need time to settle, and it seems inevitable that Chalkley’s return to the rear-guard will not be long delayed.
There was much to admire in West Ham’s attack. Morton and Leonard Goulden, the former Leyton amateur, were no more artistic than Cook and Westwood, but they shot straighter, and the mercurial Morton - small, shrewd and bursting with youthful energy - looks set for another fine season. The other wing, however, faltered. Landells, the ex‑Millwall man who once partnered Jack Cock, injured the back of his thigh early on and drifted in and out thereafter. Tippett, therefore, had little chance to show his true worth, but from what he managed before a crowd touching 26,000, he surely merits a longer trial.