A Great Escape for the Cup committee

"Where've you been?" asked the sharp tongued Cerberus on Stanley United's gate.

"Western Highlands," we said.

"Ah," said the gateman, "Tow Law."

Others on the Escape Committee had fecklessly fled elsewhere, drawn to Denaby, near Doncaster, by the club's last game on the old Miners' Welfare ground (or, alas, anywhere else.)

Among the 12 men and a dog on Stanley Hill Top, however, were Mr Laurence Appleby, who holds the post of Hereford United kitman whilst living in Newcastle, Mr Peter Sixsmith - still implacably hung up about the election of the Hartlepool monkey - and Mr John Goodall, otherwise Darlo John.

For Darlo John it was the 170th match of a storm tossed season, climaxed the previous Wednesday when a visit to Swindon Supermarine had completed his Southern League "set".

Darlo doesn't drive. Since the bus service between Swindon and Darlington is somewhat infrequent he had arrived home, still euphoric, at 2.15 the following afternoon.

"I'd have walked home for Swindon Supermarine," he said.

(The de rigueur dog, it should perhaps be added, was a canny little thing called Bob. "He won't bite you," said Bob's owner, reassuringly, "but he might wee on your shoe.")

The road from the isles had ended at 1.25pm, time for a pint and a pickled egg in the Earl Derby, so greatly under new management that the landlady hadn't yet worked out the till.

"You press the whatyamacally button," someone helpfully suggested.

The lady of this house, incidentally, reckons the reason so many pubs are called the Earl Derby is that the Earl was a generous general who gave his troops such handsome pay-offs - in lieu of a benefit match, presumably - that many opened pubs on the pickings.

She also reckons that the good Earl rose so vigorously into battle that he lost his wig - giving birth to the phrase about going into something bald headed - but is unable to suggest how derby matches came by their curious name.

Backtrack readers will doubtless be able to help.

Stanley played Annfield Plain, the Little House on the Prairie perhaps less imposing than the Millennium Stadium in Cardiff but the ground a picture, nonetheless.

Even the brick outhouse had been painted red and white once.

An advertising hoarding for British Coal recalled that, without the muck and money difficulties down at Denaby, the NCB had sold Stanley their oft-windswept ground for £1; the far sighted could see the former Fujitsu factory at Newton Aycliffe and 20 miles beyond that, so they said, the cliffs of Horden or Blackhall, or somewhere.

The playing surface, admittedly, may have been a little less well manicured than the green, green grass of the Welshman's home. "The grass has just shut up this week," said Stanley supremo Vince Kirkup, in the manner of a man annually surprised by nature.

Most Wearside League games had had a morning kick-off, in order to accommodate the armchair army. Stanley began at 2pm, though the truly heroic Mr Kirkup - for a quarter of a century Stanley's secretary, manager and very much else - thought it should have been three o'clock like the other match down country.

Vince, 51 and named as sub, takes the happily traditionalist view that football is a game to be played after a fore shift down the pit, ten minutes in a tin tub in front of the fire and a bread and dripping sandwich for dinner.

He is also one of those blessed dug-out denizens who never, ever, swears. "Never in the wide world, referee" he might quietly suggest, before begging the official's pardon and offering him first use of the showers.

Both teams remain full FA members - a constitutional standing precisely equal to Arsenal and Chelsea - but both were in the bottom four of the league. Marshall Lawson, Annfield Plain's no less magnificent secretary, has been with them for half a century and played, when 65, two years ago.

His team led 1-0 at half time. Upstairs in the Little House we drank Oxo from tea cups and, final thoughts elsewhere, turned backs to the ten to three television.

Sixer was still mithering about the monkey.

The season's last game finished, enjoyably, 1-1. Whilst the players headed for the Miners Arms to see how the second half lived, the column maintained communications silence.

The FA Cup final was ultimately glorious, too, of course. A happy ending all round.

Yesterday to the Albany Northern League Cup final at New Ferens Park, the game between Durham City and Shildon given welcome national publicity by frequent promotion on Radio 5 Live.

Former Liverpool star Mark Lawrenson gives his informed forecast on five matches each weekend and invites listeners to predict the correct score.

Five correct wins a "Lawro roll-over bumper goody bag", complete with signed photograph of Tony McCoy.

Last weekend he chose the FA Cup final (Chelsea to win 2-1), The Scottish Cup final (Celtic, 2-0), the FA Women's Cup final (wrong, again), the Cornish Cup and the Northern League Cup.

"Having studied the form" - a researcher rang Northern League Club secretary Martin Haworth - Lawrenson forecast Durham to win 1-0.

This bit's being written a couple of hours before kick-off but with the feeling that Shildon will win after extra-time and penalties. The back page may prove us both mistaken.

A week past his 47th birthday, our old friend Phil Owers has been named player of the year in the Over 40s League.

Phil, who made over 100 Football League appearances for Darlington and a couple apiece for Hartlepool and Gillingham, is now in number one trap for the Greyhound at Ferryhill, managed by the fabled Mr Frank Stocker.

"Keeping goal is like riding a bike, you never forget how it's done," he modestly insists.

Keith Machin of the Barnes in Sunderland is manager of the year, Davy Jones from the Lord Seaham in Silksworth the Over 50 player of the year and secretary of the year is Phil Daw from Glaxo in Barney.

Umpteen other awards will include a tankard for Paul Dodd from Billingham Wanderers who saved five penalties in a match. Several for the ladies include a little something for Elaine O'Connor, the Greyhound's landlady.

The evergrey Mr Owers, Shildon lad originally, says that it has nothing whatever to do with putting up with him.

Bidding for attention, our man at the football memorabilia sale in Middlesbrough the other day reports offers up to ten times the guide price.

Top whack, £950, was paid for a 1911 Middlesbrough v Manchester United programme with a partially split spine. In those days it cost a penny.

The 1922 FA Amateur Cup final programme, Bishop Auckland v South Bank, was expected to raise £75-£100 and went for £850; the 1914 semi-final, Bishop Auckland v the RAMC, raised £550 despite a missing back cover. The guide price was £60-£80.

"It was absolutely amazing," says Steve Leonard, searching chiefly for pre-war Northern League. "There was one old chap who'd been told to expect around £500 for his collection; it was over £7000 when last I checked. He was absolutely dumfounded."

Steve himself settled for South Bank v Cockfield, first day of the 1939-40 Northern League season, but declines to say how much the price had been swollen by age and inflation.

Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy were showing in "Sweethearts" at the South Bank Majestic, new homes on the Lowfields Estate were advertised from £380 and team changes would be notified on a slate sent around the ground.

That one was a penny, too. "If anyone has old programmes in the attic," says Steve, "I'd advise them to start rummaging now."

And finally...

The column back on April 23 sought the identity of the three sets of brothers who had played one day cricket for England. They were Adam and Ben Hollioake, Colin and Allan Wells and Chris and Robin Smith.

Today back to Saturday's FA Cup final, in which at one stage only seven English players were on the field. Before 1990, however, only ten players from beyond these islands had picked up a Cup winner's medal.

Readers are invited to name them. Our foreign correspondent reports again on Friday.