Frank Moss (17 April 1895 – 15 September 1965) was an English footballer for Aston Villa who went on to captain both Villa and England.
Moss joined Villa in February 1914, but had to wait until after the First World War to resume his footballing career. During the war he served in the 4th Lancashire Regiment, and a severe wound to the knee threatened his career.
However he recovered, and when Jimmy Harrop was forced out of Villa's 1920 FA Cup Final side through injury, local lad Moss took his place, helping Villa to a 1-0 victory over Huddersfield.
Villa reached the FA Cup Final four years later, with Moss captaining the side, however they were defeated by Newcastle United in their first final at Wembley.
Both his sons, Amos and Frank junior, played for Villa after World War II.
| Persondata | |
|---|---|
| Name | Moss, Frank |
| Alternative names | |
| Short description | English footballer |
| Date of birth | 17 April 1895 |
| Place of birth | |
| Date of death | 15 September 1965 |
| Place of death | |
Famous quotes containing the words frank, moss and/or born:
“The radio ... goes on early in the morning and is listened to at all hours of the day, until nine, ten and often eleven o’clock in the evening. This is certainly a sign that the grown-ups have infinite patience, but it also means that the power of absorption of their brains is pretty limited, with exceptions, of course—I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. One or two news bulletins would be ample per day! But the old geese, well—I’ve said my piece!”
—Anne Frank (1929–1945)
“They are very proper forest houses, the stems of the trees collected together and piled up around a man to keep out wind and rain,—made of living green logs, hanging with moss and lichen, and with the curls and fringes of the yellow birch bark, and dripping with resin, fresh and moist, and redolent of swampy odors, with that sort of vigor and perennialness even about them that toadstools suggest.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)
“Poor John Field!—I trust he does not read this, unless he will improve by it,—thinking to live by some derivative old-country mode in this primitive new country.... With his horizon all his own, yet he a poor man, born to be poor, with his inherited Irish poverty or poor life, his Adam’s grandmother and boggy ways, not to rise in this world, he nor his posterity, till their wading webbed bog-trotting feet get talaria to their heels.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)