Warrior class

AS usual it is to be a football column; unusually – uniquely, even – this is American football. Jon Tait, a 34-year-old assistant headmaster, is the American ambassador.

Passionate and proselytising, he has nothing against the English version, save for 6ft saturation in the press. A Manchester United fan, he kept goal for Crook Town, on the bench that memorable day a decade or so ago when Crook played at Doncaster Rovers in the last qualifying round of the FA Cup.

Memorable? It was the match that the Crook fans sang “Hughie Roberts is our friend”, bringing the South Yorkshire constabulary cascading down the visitors’ end terrace.

They had mistaken “Hughie Roberts” for “Harry Roberts”, an infamous police killer. Hughie Roberts was a Crook newsagent. The fans added the pay-off line to the backs of the retreating officers. “He sells papers.”

Jon had played in one or two of the earlier rounds. “I tell the kids at school that I played in the FA Cup. I don’t think they believe me,” he says.

Besides, at Woodham Comp in Newton Aycliffe – these days a Community Technology College – they’re more likely to ask about the shoulder- padded, face-masked, up-and-at- ’em version.

Jon calls both football. Whole new ball game or otherwise, the differences will doubtless be self-explanatory.

Woodham Warriors boys’ team have reached the last two Britbowl finals, played in three European championships and in the world championships in New Orleans. “I remember looking at the programme,” he says. “Beijing, Bangkok and Newton Aycliffe. It was simply unbelievable.”

The girls’ team, the only one in the boys’ league, have just one their first match – against the young men of Chester Romans. “There were tears, people going round hugging one another, it was incredibly emotional,” he recalls. “It wasn’t a fix, it wasn’t a wind-up. That’s the sort of thing that puts a smile on your face, isn’t it?”

Last month, almost as memorably, he was part of an Anglo American football delegation – “a PR exercise, I suppose” – invited to meet ministers and other senior figures at the House of Commons. “I could hardly believe it,” says Jon. “We were in the national finals and when someone rang from Gateshead about going to London, I thought he was just trying to scrounge a lift on the team bus.

“I even got mentioned in a speech in the House of Commons. After that, the only way is up.”

HE was a lifeguard at the Dolphin Centre in Darlington, wanted to be a teacher, saw a notice in the staff changing room about American football courses.

He’d watched it on Channel 4 in the Eighties, heard little thereafter – “It’s what happens when you aren’t on the telly” – felt interest immediately renewed. “I thought it would look good on my CV, but I thoroughly enjoyed the course, one of the milestones of my life. It was like riding a bike, you just lit the blue touchpaper and went.”

Finally he got a job teaching PE at the former Eastbourne comprehensive, in Darlington – “there was some really challenging behaviour,” he recalls by way of educational euphemism – persuaded the head to let him start an American football afterschool club.

“Anyone in that position would have been happy to listen, but it showed he had faith in me. It led to improved team work, discipline and respect among those boys. Some of the changes were unbelievable.

Whatever you do with kids, if they can see passion and energy, they respond.”

Back then it was what they call flag football, rather like tag rugby, without padding, masks or other protection. It took off, nonetheless.

He’s been at Woodham eight years, originally just as a PE teacher, continued the trans-Atlantic treat, but ultimately with basic kit that costs £230 a set. The school has 35 sets of shoulder pads.

“It proved a very effective way of engaging them, of teaching them worth and character, giving them focus. With traditional football they think they know it all, take no notice of coaches and just want to play; with American football they’re prepared to listen.

“Ninety nine per cent of the kids who play might never have been much good at cricket or football – wrong shape, different abilities, whatever. Most of all, they love it.

“I enjoy the strategy of it, the tactics of it. I can still see the same values, the same appeal and the same magic as I did when I first discovered it.”

A highlight came in 2007, winning a category of the Northern Echo’s Local Heroes awards. “We were just delighted to be there, acknowledged at the same level as everyone else.

This was American football.

“When it was announced that we’d won, I remember the chairs flying backwards as everyone leaped to their feet. We’d been recognised.”

Several of the team have represented Great Britain, others played for the north. Former students now help coach the side., “They can sit in the pub when they’re 80 and tell everyone they played for Great Britain,” muses Jon. “You can never take away that.”

WE’RE sitting in the pub, too, two pints of bitter and a large helping of evangelistic fervour. There’s little sign, however, of a widespread American invasion.

There’s a senior team in Gateshead, another being formed in the Chester-le-Street area. The Warriors seek to be user friendly, a make love not war path.

When they reached the Britbowl in September, Jon – coach Tait, they call him –- booked them all into a Hilton Hotel. Narrowly beaten in the 2010 final, they took the lead this year with just seconds to go.

“We thought that that was it but they just humped the ball down the field, a great big Hail Mary, their lad caught it and won the game.”

They’ll get over it. “You don’t learn anything from winning, it’s what you learn from losing that’s important.

We’ve learned a lot in the past six weeks and I’ve improved as a coach.”

So what of the American dream, over here if not exactly over-hyped?

“Unfortunately, football is so high profile over here that there’s no room on the back pages for anything else.

Everyone’s obsessed with football and that’s a pity, but I don’t see any massive shift at the moment.

“It’s not going to happen overnight, but nor is it about getting 45-year-olds and telling them they’re going to be the next best thing. It’s about kids and schools.

“We’ve taken the game to the House of Commons now. Maybe people will finally start to take notice.”