FITZWILLIAM is to Hemsworth what Cockerton is to Darlington, which is to say indivisible from – and all but subsumed by – Big Brother.

Fitzwilliam was also the birthplace of Sir Geoffrey, of the football brothers Knowles and of Robert Holgate, Archbishop of York from 1545-54 and a man dragged to the courts for supposedly marrying another man’s wife.

On the grounds that on the first occasion the female in question was only seven years old, and thus possibly beneath the age of consent, the courts found for the Archbishop.

Hemsworth and Fitzwilliam are on the former Yorkshire coalfield, Wakefield way, at the heart of the unrest in the 1984-85 miners’ strike – remember the Fitzwilliam Nine? Arthur Scargill does – and subject of a protest song called Fitzwilliam by the anarchic band Chumbawumba.

Twelve months of bribery, 12 months of lies

Cops in the village to truncheon your bride.

It wasn’t the world’s greatest or most obvious rhyme. Perhaps they’d become confused with Mrs Holgate.

HEMSWORTH Miners Welfare are playing Sunderland RCA, FA Vase second round, last Saturday. The Railroad to Wembley leads first from Darlington to Doncaster, the guard obliged to apologise at York because it’s already ten minutes late. He blames too many passengers, but stops short of saying that they’re the wrong sort of passengers.

The passenger in the next seat is applying her make-up. When we alight at Donny she still is. Michelangelo may have painted the roof of the Sistine Chapel in less time than it takes this woman to paint her face.

There’s a connection from Doncaster to Fitzwilliam where, immediately, everyone seems to hail Holgate. There’s Holgate View, Holgate Terrace, Holgate Avenue – even an Archbishop Holgate hospital – but not even the local Wetherspoons raises a bat to Sir Geoffrey.

More prosaically, it’s called the Blue Bell, three pints for £4.55. Mr Gary Brand, one of the travelling band, recalls that the week previously he’d been in the London Wetherspoons with his son.

“Maybe there’s more than one,” he says upon reflection.

Fitzwilliam also has a pub called the Catchpenny, which Chambers defines as “a worthless thing made only to sell.” Clearly that has nothing to do with Sir Geoffrey, either.

Mark 6:4, the bit about a prophet not being without honour save in his own country, comes to mind: the Archbishop would probably have understood.

CYRIL Knowles had himself been a West Yorkshire miner, just 5ft tall and weighing little over seven stones when he went down the pit at 15 and very much bigger when, two years later, he resurfaced.

He’d played for Hemsworth, was rejected by Man United – “too small” – wrote for a trial at Middlesbrough and was quickly taken on.

Also a miner, his dad had played Rugby League for Wakefield Trinity. Cyril was offered a deal by Featherstone Rovers, but at 17 chose soccer. “League was only part-time,” he said. “I just knew I wanted to get out of the pit.”

His brother Peter signed for Wolves, won England Under-23 honours, but became a Jehovah’s Witness and though Wanderers held his registration for another 12 years, never played again.

Cyril had by then moved from outside left to left back, was spotted by Spurs after a season by the Tees and signed for £42,500 despite the fact that manager Bill Nicholson had never seen him play.

He made 501 Tottenham appearances, scored 17 goals, won four England caps and, in 1973, was the subject of a Cockerel Chorus song – Nice One Cyril – which reached No 14 in the charts and 11 years later made its way into the Oxford English Dictionary.

“Originally a football chant,” it said.

After injury compelled early retirement, he spent several years as a coach before taking a pay cut at Malcolm Allison’s Middlesbrough to become manager of Darlington. He not only guided the Quakers to promotion but, uniquely, to stay at the higher level.

He’d married Betty, whom he’d met while still down the pit – “No one could say I married him for his money,” she liked to say – lived in Ingleby Arncliffe, near Northallerton, and, though neither smoker nor drinker, would nip down the pub for a hand of dominoes with the locals.

Finally sacked at Feethams, he managed Torquay before returning north to Hartlepool and had in turn steered Pools towards the top before becoming seriously ill.

Caretaker boss Alan Murray completed the promotion job. Cyril Knowles, as nice as the headline writers suggested, died soon afterwards from a brain tumour. He was 47.

HEMSWORTH’S heaving clubhouse is hung with football pennants from Darlington v Manchester City to HM Prison Service, presumably just visiting.

On the fence outside, a huge banner proclaims that “Poey is innocent” – a reference not to the miners’ strike but to a local Leeds United fan said to have thrown a 50p piece at a rival from Leicester.

“A right stitch-up,” says a fellow Yorkshireman. “Poey would never have thrown 50p at anyone. 20p maybe.”

Another pennant is from Wolverhampton Wanderers and includes the name of Colin Larkin, wonderfully coincidental because after just 12 seconds the same Colin Larkin scores. “Five touches, three of them his,” it’s reported.

I’m still in the clubhouse, the only problem that it’s another 20 minutes before I realise that Larkin has scored for our boys and not for Hemsworth.

It recalls the observation frequently ascribed to Sir Geoffrey’s former team-mate Sir Frederick, that he doesn’t rart know what’s going off out there.

Chuffed by the goal, RCA secretary Rob Jones is still moved to recall that the Ebac Northern League recently fined his club £10 for inadvertently putting “Wayne Larkins” and not Colin Larkin on the match report form.

Colin Larkin is a 33-year-old Irishman whose extensive Football League career ended at Hartlepool United. Wayne Larkins played cricket for Durham and England and was also a milkman. “An easy mistake,” says Rob.

Someone else remembers the Larkins, a popular sitcom – Peggy Mount and David Kossoff, was it not? – when ITV was but a cathode ray of hope.

By half-time the Ryhope-based visitors are 3-0 up, seemingly set to extend an unbeaten run said to stretch to 15 games, despite the fact that one of the 15 was lost on penalties, after extra-time. “Penalties don’t count,” says RCA general manager Colin Wilson, contentiously.

Our boys win 5-1, Larkin completing a hat-trick. It’s a great result and the first time that they’ve been in the third round. What goes around comes around, maybe, but for RCA is this a record?