Bay's Ribble rousers take every witch way to Vase joy

Clitheroe's in Lancashire hill country, a pleasant market town dominated by its Norman castle but known better still for a 4ft 3in comedian who, literally, never grew up.

Jimmy Clitheroe, aged 52 when he died on the day of his mother's funeral in 1973, was born in Clitheroe but grew up in Blacko, a few miles away. Perhaps Jimmy Blacko didn't sound quite right.

The Clitheroe Kid, his radio show, ran for 16 years on the Light Programme - usually, memory suggests, between roast beef and Yorkshires and jam tart and custard - and he spent 25 summers at the end of Blackpool's triplicate piers, almost always playing a smarty pants schoolboy.

The area, officially the Ribble Valley, is also renowned as the home of the nine Pendle Witches - a familiar story, as the Witchfinder General might have observed - hanged together in 1612 after falling foul of James I's regal paranoia and, posthumously, a visitor attraction.

Whatever the tourism department's supernatural instincts, however, it was the Albany Northern League side who were to prove the Wizards of Ribble.

East or west Pennines, the weather had been fearful. The curiously concave pitch, heroically made playable, resembled Cullercoats beach after high tide. The Seahorses, as Whitley Bay now style themselves, could feel at home.

In the last round, it may be recalled, they had gone ahead at Brigg with a tenth second own goal. To the travelling supporters' clear frustration, this time it was almost three minutes before they scored.

Kevin Walton, a Tyneside vet, hoisted high a free kick; former England schools international Ian Chandler, over 300 games with Whitley Bay, headed inarguably home.

The home crowd - honest, friendly folk who eat plate pies and smoke Ogden's Rough Cut - were briefly stunned and might have been forever silenced had not Jon Sunderland missed a fifth minute chance when through.

Sunderland shot high and wide: an allegory for a bigger stage.

In the town there is a Castle fish and chip shop, a Castle model shop and a Castle pub. Clitheroe are sponsored by Castle Cement, the motif - or so it seemed - on every bag of cement you ever saw. It was our lads, however, who should finally have toppled the tower with a 73rd minute penalty.

Walton's kick was well saved, his third successive penalty miss. It shouldn't happen to a vet.

Clitheroe, finalists in 1995 and semi-finalists last year, equalised soon afterwards. The ground, upon which £130,000 had been spent since an infamous former Whitley Bay chairman publicly described it as a "dilapidated dump", erupted. The Clitheroe kids went wild.

Seconds remained, extra time attended, when home keeper Kris Richins parried a shot and Whitley captain Steve Locker poked home his first goal of the season from at least a yard out.

The skipper had barely reached the edge of the goal area before being flattened by exultant colleagues, yellow clad team mates piling one on top of the other like fluorescent jackets at the end of a hard shift.

The final whistle blew just blessed moments later. It was whilst relaying the good news to New Ferens Park, Durham, that we learned that City, too, had just scored a last-minute winner and that the Albany Northern League - incomparable, indomitable - again had two teams in the Vase semi-final.

Witchcraft? Magic, anyhow.

Success's only sour note is that fans can no longer legitimately chant "Wem-ber-lee", or variations upon the North London theme. The FA Vase and FA Trophy finals are on successive May days at Villa Park, Birmingham, which may not enjoy the same cadence.

We are grateful, therefore, to Tim Grimshaw in North Shields for news that at the Morecambe v Scarborough Trophy replay last week, the home fans were singing "We'll be running round Villa Park with our willies hanging out."

Morecambe are known as the Shrimps.

Speaking of the black arts, as mysteriously we were, the magazine of the Stepy's Coaches Durham and District Sunday League reports that a national coach in Cameroon - that well known Durham district side - has been banned for a year after allegedly dropping a "charm" onto the pitch.

Police led Thomas Nkono away in handcuffs before the match with (inexplicably) his trousers round his ankles.

A policeman then removed an object from the pitch, thought to be a black magic charm left there to help Cameroon's chance against Mali in the African Nations Cup.

Charmed or otherwise, they won 3-0.

ON Friday evening to the opening of Billingham Town's long awaited clubhouse, reality after 18 years of forms, filibustering and frustration.

The team kicked off in 1968. Tom Donnelly, a founder then and the tireless chairman now, was joined by early days colleagues, Stockton's mayor and by the blazer brigade.

Club president Tony Maxwell revealed, however, that they had decided against inviting Mr and Mrs George Reynolds. "We wanted the players to stay until the end."

Alec McCoy, former Shildon polliss and now Wear Valley council's licensing officer, has been on about that legendary goalkeeper Sam Bartram - and about his own dad, remembered no less affectionately in the east Durham coalfield.

Friday's column told how Sam was spotted by a late running Charlton Athletic scout whilst playing for Boldon Colliery. The goalie he'd been sent to see had been injured early on; Sam - usually the centre forward - had taken the woolly gloves, the scout had left much impressed and the rest is football history.

The story's basically true, insists Alec, except that it wasn't Boldon, it was Easington Colliery and the injured keeper was his late father, another Alec.

"He could have been just as good as Sam Bartram but in those days miners with families wanted the security of a weekly wage and a few bob on top from playing football on Saturdays," says Alec.

Sam's last ever column in the Sunday People listed the great goalkeepers of his era but never once mentioned Alec McCoy.

Alec junior wrote to him: "My dad must have been really good because he kept you out of the team at Easington Colliery Juniors."

He never received a reply.

STILL on the trail of Billy "Legs" Linacre, we hear from Paul Dobson, who remembers Billy's son Phil playing at Bishop Auckland in the 1980s. His dad remained his most loyal supporter.

"Phil was a very good player, but was slow in getting back and was caught offside on more than his fair share of occasions," recalls Paul.

"Any criticism, however, always brought his dad scuttling across the terraces to remonstrate with whoever he thought had made the comment.

"The wrong person was often taken to task. It enlivened dull periods no end."

THE brothers who managed English and Scottish championship winning sides (Backtrack, March 1) are - of course - Bill and Bob Shankly, Liverpool and Dundee.

Today back to the Clitheroe Kid. His sister - readers of a certain age will recall - was Susan and her boyfriend was Alfie. But what was the name of the Kid's sworn enemy?

More Kid's stuff on Friday

Published: Tuesday, March 5, 2002