John puts his faith in cod

John Raw remembers having to swallow cod liver oil, too – “pretty horrible stuff” – but these days he takes his medicine like a man, spoonfuls of sugar not necessary.

John’s 59, still playing cricket for King James I in Bishop Auckland.

At the start of the season, however, a frozen shoulder meant that it was agony even to take off his jacket, much less pull on a cricket jumper.

“I wouldn’t wish the pain on anyone. At Scarborough in the first match of the season I was just bowling half-trackers and by the third, at Ryhope, I had to tell the skipper I couldn’t bowl at all. I thought I’d finally hit the buffers.”

Last weekend, however, he picked up the club’s bowling award for the ninth time – 36 wickets at an extraordinary 8.69 apiece – and all down, he supposes, to dear old cod liver oil.

“I’d tried all sorts of remedies and recommendations, but the pain was chronic. We played Hurworth Gentlemen one day and someone said that the over 55s at Yarm squash club swore by cod liver oil to keep them going.

“I was a bit dubious and had a few bad memories but I tried it and my shoulder’s completely better. To come from those sad beginnings to again finish top of the heap is unbelievable.”

John was a Shildon lad, his father – the late John senior – was secretary of Shildon BR Cricket Club (as once it was) for 52 years until 2001. There are folk who’ll tell you they’re pot models.

Young John was just five when first he worked the scorebox tins at the old ground behind the wagon works, played for Shildon and Willington second teams, retired for ten years and joined King James in 1985.

Wheels newly cod liver oiled, Raw material restored, he has no thoughts of retirement.

The medicine’s efficacy notwithstanding, success may still owe something to his dazzling bowling action – though he insists it’s chiefly because he likes the sun behind his arm.

“The knack is that I’m even slower than they think,” says John, the Wear Valley Neighbourhood Watch liaison officer “I suppose it’s about years of experience and the ability to read opponents. I don’t bowl them out, I suss them out, and I’d like to thank my victims for throwing themselves so readily on the stumps.”

Cod liver oil is exactly what it says, high in vitamins A and D, and “widely taken” says the Internet, for combating the effects of arthritis.

“It has also been clinically proved to have a positive effect on heart, bone and brain as well as helping to nourish skin, hair and nails,” adds Wikipedia.

Among other uses, it’s said to be good for treating household burns, to be an effective complementary medicine for long-term treatment of multiple sclerosis and, if taken during pregnancy, to reduce the chances of diabetes in the offspring.

When we were bairns, of course, it was force fed us in the belief that it would guard against rickets. Since I never had rickets, it must have worked for that, an’ all.

John Raw, meanwhile, hasn’t felt better for years – but so far as cod liver oil’s concerned, he vows to keep on hitting the bottle.

SPEAKING of Willington cricket – which, however fleetingly, we were – Roy Simpson has come across a terse message from those parts.

It was August 22 1970, Willington due to play Peterlee Casuals (as then they were). Since it was an English summer, it was pouring down. “Match off”

said the Post Office telegram, and probably said it all.

The telegram(right) was received at Willington post office at 11 45am, delivered to Peterlee secretary Ralph Rawle – “probably by a boy on a bike,”

Roy supposes – just 20 minutes later.

The Casuals, a Sunday side, were made up of Peterlee Newcomers and shared the Eden Lane ground with the town’s footballers. “It was an excellent square to bat on but an outfield that was also a football field made fielding more of a lottery than an art,” says Roy.

That telegram’s still highly topical, of course. “I wonder,”

says Roy, “what the postal workers’ union might have said about it?”

PETERLEE, still. Celebrating its 20th anniversary, and still just 30p, the Northern League magazine reproduces covers from the past two decades.

One’s a knitting pattern – there’s a story behind that – another, from December 2000, shows the now-familiar face of BBC news reader Sophie Raworth, now 41.

Nine years ago she was a presenter on Tomorrow’s World, charged with overseeing the appliance of science to fill in the huge crater that suddenly appeared in Murton’s ground and with using futuristic training techniques to propel Peterlee Newtown up the up the Pyramid ladder.

The hole truth appears to have been more convincing. Peterlee have fallen three levels, from Northern League first division to Northern Alliance second.

TWO final grassroots cricket notes, firstly that Stafford Place CC captain Brent “Bomber”

Smith – talked up here on Tuesday – prefers to think that it’s the team that might struggle to survive without him, not the club.

Secondly, the admirable Charles Allenby reports that the Feversham League – “despite rumours to the contrary”

– is to continue next season. All five clubs confirmed at the endof- season meeting that they’d be pitching wickets next season.

The minutes of that meeting also records thanks to Mr Mike Amos for his “humorous” coverage of the league, based around the North Yorkshire moors, during 2010. A pleasure, as always.

Sharon’s plan to hit the road – again

ON TOP of the world after her Commonwealth 24-hour race gold medal in September, ultra runner Sharon Gayter has been knocked a little offaxis by news from Guinness World Records.

The day before the Commonwealth event, GWR had told her that rival Mimi Anderson’s claim to her Lands End to John o’ Groats women’s world record – 12 days, 16 hours and 23 minutes – had been disqualified.

Now it’s been reinstated. Mrs Gayter – Guisborough lass, asthmatic, indomitable – is not a happy lady. It may not help that Anderson’s website is immodestly named “Marvellous Mimi.”

“There are still issues which need resolving,” says Sharon. “GWR will considerably go down in my estimation if they uphold this.”

If they do, of course, it means that Sharon will just have to do it all – all 837 miles – again. “While fit and able I couldn’t rest.

“As much as I would hate ever to have to run it again, the one thing I said on finishing was that I could do much better. Now it looks like I’ll have to.”

FORMER Hartlepool United chairman Garry Gibson, an old friend, emails from his Edinburgh home.

“Have a look at what’s sitting on my front doorstep this morning,” he says.

“I know I’m looking for a bird, but I’m not that desperate. I hope she doesn’t think I’m her companion for life.”

The bird in question is a swan and it’s still there – possibly, supposes Garry, awaiting the return of the striking postman.

“I’ve tried to shoo her away but I think I’m more scared than she is.

She didn’t bat an eyelid,” says the 6ft 6in former Wheatley Hill lad.

“I wouldn’t want to hurt her, anyway, but don’t all swans belong to the queen? You’d probably get locked up for treason.”

Though Garry’s still swanning about a bit himself, and remains a Sunderland season ticket holder, the newcomer has a rival in his affections.

He’s walking out with the late Fred Trueman’s stepdaughter, we hear.

AN E-MAIL, too, from Ray Gowan, manager over many years of eight or nine different Northern League clubs. It’s in behalf of an organisation called SpeedDate. Is there something we should know?

TUESDAY’S note on the passing of Alec “Bint” Thompson, a legendary goal scorer up at Wearhead United, prompted club historian Ray Snaith to recall Bint’s finest hour.

It was November 1946 when he hit eight – “he claimed it was nine” – in a Durham Amateur Cup replay against neighbouring Rookhope. A week earlier they’d drawn 5-5.

That season he scored 32 goals, the following season 60 in 25 games.

His funeral was held on Wednesday.

SINCE we’d also mentioned Don Harnby’s death – Stockton lad, sporting all-rounder, good singer – Keith Hopper recalls that after Don had finished his full-time professional career at Grimsby Town, he joined Lincolnshire police.

“I was walking through Grimsby one day and thought that this officer looked familiar. Apparently the chief constable was determined to win the national police cup and was recruiting ex-pros.”

Sheelagh, Don’s widow, not only confirms the story but that Lincolnshire did, indeed, win the police cup. “The chief constable was so keen to humour them that he called them all Mister.

“I remember the night they won it, Don almost literally fell in through the door about midnight and the inspector who was driving the bus fell in after him. The inspector then picked himself up and, drunk as a lord, drove off with the rest of the players. They did things differently then.”

Don’s funeral was held in Stockton yesterday.

ON Wednesday evening to Bedlington Terriers v Spennymoor Town, where former Spennymoor Boxing Academy secretary Paul Hodgson continues to hone his Harold Steptoe impression.

Hodgy had missed last Saturday’s crucial game with Whitley Bay, however, for the dual reason that Sunderland were on television and it was raining.

Hodgy is the original fair weather fan.

A CLASSIC example of what goes around comes around, a 78rpm record commemorating the 1932 FA Cup final – Arsenal v Newcastle United – sold for £120 at auction in London on Tuesday.

The record, originally sold by Jeavons’ in Newcastle, featured “Meet Newcastle United” on one side and “Meet Arsenal” on the other.

Play it again? It’s still remembered as the “over the line” final, the Magpies winning 2-1 with two goals from Newburn lad Jack Allen who’d been Sheffield Wednesday’s leading scorer in the 1929 and 1930 championship seasons. Newcastle paid £3,500 to bring hum home again.

Allen became landlord of the Travellers Rest in Burnopfield, north Durham. He died in 1957.

and finally...

THE batsman left stranded on 98 when Mike Atherton declared in the 1994-95 Ashes test in Sydney (Backtrack, October 27) was Graham Hick.

Before Newcastle United’s home becomes the Uncle Ben’s Boiled Rice Stadium (or some such) readers are today invited to name the two other English football grounds called St James’ Park.

The column’s back home again on Tuesday.