OUR old friend Roy Simpson, chairman of the Durham Cricket League, received his hugely merited MBE from the Duke of Cambridge last week. Peterlee lad, Roy is also a magistrate, chairman of governors at Shotton Hall Academy and founder and organiser of the World Egg Jarping Championships.

His Royal Highness, alas, appeared to have something else in his diary next Easter. “He’s promised that their lass will send a bottle for the raffle,” says Roy.

URBANE as ever, Alan Shearer officially opened South Shields FC’s magnificently refurbished clubhouse last Thursday evening.

This is the club, Ebac Northern League second division, which the previous Saturday had attracted more than 1,400 spectators for the match with Tow Law.

The North-East football legend is a golf buddy of club owner Geoff Thompson, a hugely successful businessman born a couple of miles away.

“He wins and takes all my money,” said Geoff.

“He wins and takes all my money,” said Alan.

Briefly Freemasonic, one of those present rolled up his trouser leg and invited a signature on the knee to ankle Magpies tattoo. Shearer obliged with aplomb. “I’ll never have a bath again,” the guy said.

HARRY Clarke’s funeral was held on Monday. Penny Edwards, the great all-rounder’s daughter, recalled that though he’d lived all over the North-East, Darlington was the one he had to come back for.

He’d also had three different spells with the Quakers, and was the only man to play both football and cricket professionally at Feethams.

As dementia darkened, he’d moved to a care home in Derbyshire to be nearer his family, but the funeral was back at Holy Trinity in Darlington. Penny put it simply: “Welcome home, Harry.”

THE 23rd stage of the Last Legs Challenge began and ended at Pinchinthorpe, near Guisborough, en route to Guisborough Town v Dunston UTS.

Not that it was a wild day or nowt, but we were in the Newton-under-Roseberry pub by 11.15am.

Thereafter, in the face of a storm up towards Roseberry Topping, passed on the steep and rugged pathway by two horses and one rider heading in the opposite direction. What was that about Only Fools?

Back at the start of the forest trail in Pinchinthorpe, a poster sought to recruit Balsam Yompers – “keep fit, meet people, help increase woodland biodiversity.”

The yompers are needed to tackle Himalayan balsam, botanically impatiens glandulifera, which translated means bloody nuisance. Other areas simply call them balsam bashers.

Introduced to Britain in 1839, much the same time as Japanese knotweed – wasn’t it that which damn-near strangled Bishop Auckland’s new ground at birth? – Himalayan balsam is now regarded as a highly invasive weed.

Sometimes it’s known as policeman’s helmet, sometimes as bobby tops, sometimes gnome’s hat stand. Fellow walkers saw a resemblance to busy lizzies, but Himalayan balsam isn’t just busy, it’s positively promiscuous.

Pinchinthorpe also has something called a Superworm Trail, known otherwise as a trim trail, but after 281 miles thus far, trim trails are superfluous.

FORMER Guisborough Town press officer John Butterfield has metamorphed into Johnny Green, wrestling MC – something to do with his emerald suit, apparently. Among the main attractions is a gentleman called Goliath who, as all O-level scripture students know, was from Gath. This one, perhaps forgetting what they say about the bigger they come, is different. This one’s Goliath of Trimdon. Another fighter answers to Asylum, but that’s the Shildon Asylum, of course.

NOT too many Goliaths at Shildon Amateur Boxing Club’s show last Friday night, but an awful lot of diamond Davids – not least local lad Carl Stout and Levi Smith, from Darlington.

Officially it was Shildon v England Select. The young man from Motherwell must have escaped border controls.

Needing a new opponent at the last minute, Carl was required to put on 4lbs in little more than a day in order to make the weight. “Make sure you have a good dinner,” texted head coach John Heighington to his school that morning.

The contest was magnificent, the winner young Stout. He may not have had any supper.

AMONG those at the boxing was Peter Bell, former landlord of the Masons Arms in Shildon and now at the Black Swan in Bedale.

When last mentioned hereabouts, he was cycling to the Swan from his home near Bishop Auckland, an exercise restricted since he came off and spent ten days in James Cook Hospital.

Peter also recalled the Eating Owt column’s visit to the Masons, attracted by a “Good food” sign outside. “The only sign of food,” the column observed, “was the gum being chewed by the barmaid.” We’ve been mates ever since.

….and finally, the first cricketer to hit 100 centuries (Backtrack, November 19) was Colin Cowdrey.

The answer to the previous week’s question – Gary Sobers’ 365 against Pakistan – should have read that it was in 1958 and not 1968. John Bainbridge also adds the remarkable stat that the innings contained not a single six.

Still with cricket, Don Clarke in South Shields today invites readers to suggest the world record currently held by the mighty Marcus Trescothick, who’ll be 40 on Christmas Day.

Not just for the record, the column returns next week.