Gentlemen’s relish

In December 1997 it was to present some awards; last Wednesday evening it was for a snooker exhibition match between Nigel Bond and Michael Holt.

Mr Holt is known as The Hitman, apparently because of his habit of thumping the table in moments of frustration, an over-reaction which on one occasion left him with a broken knuckle. Don’t England’s cricketers do that, too?

Mr Bond is nicknamed Basildon, for reasons which will be understood by the Guild of Letter Writers but which had rather passed by Steve Lewis, standing at the bar.

“He must be from Essex, then,” he said.

Officially it’s not the Gentlemen’s Club at all, it’s the New Club, though it hasn’t been new since 1909. A photograph of the founding committee hangs next to one of the centenary committee striking a remarkably similar pose. Since the lights were down for most of the evening, it wasn’t possible to tell if any of the same men were on both pictures.

More familiar in London, gentlemen’s private clubs still survive in North-East England. Memory suggests that Bishop Auckland’s closed but there’s still one in Willington and another in Durham, opposite the Shire Hall, to which members cleave as zealously as did rapscallions to the Cathedral knocker.

The New Club’s just behind the town centre, the bar and snooker room on the first floor. A stair lift, while doubtless appreciated, has more bends than Brands Hatch.

At the top of the stairs, last Wednesday at any rate, stood a large advertising placard, about 6ft deep, for Whitehouse Funeral Service.

Doubtless some of the members are getting on, doubtless a bit out of puff by the top, but it did seem a bit – you know – in your face.

Still, Whitehouse’s are good sponsors. Members and close relatives get ten per cent off funerals, an’ all.

IT’S a welcoming and civilised, an unstuffy haven of a place where the dress code is by no means as rigorous as of yore, but jeans are still forbidden on special occasions, like Wednesday’s.

One member wore smart slacks but had a rather divisive (shall we say) builder’s backside – nothing in the dress code about builder’s backsides. The photographer wore jeans. It’s the first and universal code of journalism that photographers are exempt from all dress codes (and much else, as well).

Harry Gilbert, the club secretary, is a former football referee who worked in Saudi Arabia. “I refereed in the Bin Laden Stadium,” he recalled, though this one was named after another family member. Fred, or someone.

Harry’s also well known in amateur dramatic circles. Last year they played The Tempest, open-air in the South Park. His King of Naples was magnificent, it’s reported.

The club has three tables and, at the bottom, a huge champions’ shield which (as the 1997 column observed) even Goliath of Gath would have struggled to lift without doing himself a damage. At the bottom of the shield, the name of Ernie Camplin is listed out of annual sequence, apparently because he was a little chap and wouldn’t have been able to admire his name further up.

Now that’s the real definition of gentlemen.

The most frequent name on the shield appears to be that of local dentist Roly Glew, who may (or may not) be known as Superglew.

We’d also reported 17 years ago that the gents' not just had a hair brush, but a shoe brush and cleaning stand, too. Harry said he couldn’t remember it, but added that they’d welcome new members “of the right calibre.” He’s at harry.gilbert@ntlworld.com

NIGEL BOND is 49, the British Open champion in 1996 and still rated 60th in the world. His winnings, it’s reckoned, are about £1,635,000.

Michael Holt is 36, ranked world 23rd, has won around £680,000 but has been ordered to forfeit frames for swearing (if not for assaulting the furniture).

Their game is only gently competitive, but much appreciated by a full house. Amid the near-monastic silence half way through, a mild expletive is heard from the table. It’s source cannot be ascertained, but it may not have been Mr Bond.

The steward is Mike Anderson, who in the 1980s ran the Fox and Hounds by the Tees at Neasham. The buffet is first class, the scotch eggs world class.

By 10.30pm the professionals are playing club members, but the lady of the house is waiting patiently outside. On the familiarly irrefutable argument that gentlemen prefer blondes, I make my excuses and leave.

AS enjoyable as the snooker proved, it may not have been the most exciting evening in Darlington in recent days. Janet Murrell in Durham returns whence it came a Northern Echo paragraph headed “Gardening talk” – to be held in “Bondage Methodist Church Hall.” We tried to get a comment, but they were all tied up in Bondgate, too.

WE all make mistakes, of course, and how often has a “Janet Murrell” paragraph thus been suffixed? The Daily Telegraph earlier this month listed Whitby in second place behind Deal – as in big – in a feature on desirable coastal properties.

The paper’s website now includes a paragraph talking about an atmospheric backdrop, cobbled streets, sandy beaches and properties “cloaked in history".

Private Eye, however, claims that the paper itself went further, adding that St Hilda’s Terrace “commands a premium” and that the White Oaks area is best avoided.

This is probably true. A quick internet search turns up the headline: “Four shot at White Oaks apartment complex” and suggests that the place is causing a headache for Durham regional police.

Therein lies a clue. The White Oaks in question is in Ontario, Canada.

MARTIN BIRTLE was puzzled by the daytime television programme Escape to the Country which last week paid a rare visit to County Durham. The first property shown was in Tudhoe, Spennymoor – a snip at £695,000 – whilst Bishop Auckland also briefly featured. The programme described the town as “a shoppers’ paradise” with more than 200 retail outlets. It failed to add, says Martin, that 90 per cent of them are shut.

The Times is appropriately awash with letters about what’s happening in The Archers, a perennial preoccupation among its readers. From Spennymoor, Dr Andrew Sanderson suggests damming the Am at Lakey Hill, creating a reservoir to supply Bortsetshire and further afield. Though Ambridge would be submerged, Dr Sanderson sees benefits. “The Archers, even the Grundys, could start all over again in Northumberland.”