Sessay’s boys of 2010 evoke memories of ‘76 (From The Northern Echo)

Sessay’s boys of 2010 evoke memories of ‘76

12:12pm Saturday 21st August 2010 in

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THE gentlemen of Sessay, as true and as genuine a village cricket team as may in latter days have called middle and leg, are at Lord’s on September 12 in the final of the National Village Cup.

It’s an extraordinary story and an emotional one – not least for John Flintoff, a chicken farmer of those parts.

Sessay have reached the final once before, in 1976.

Young Flintoff had played in every round, the semi-final falling on his 21st birthday.

Between then and the final he did his back in while driving the tractor and had to watch from the stands like an over-excited mother hen.

Thirty-four years later, when Sessay again reached the final by winning at Fillongley in Warwickshire last Sunday, John struck a crucial 30. It was his 55th birthday and, unashamedly, there were tears.

“It’s every cricketer’s dream to play at Lord’s, but I thought my opportunity had long gone,” he says.

“Fillongley were a quality side, no doubt about it, the top nine had all scored centuries. It’s amazing to be given another chance.”

In the 1976 competition, glad-handedly sponsored by Haig, the whisky people, they’d lost narrowly as Troon, from Cornwall, made their third appearance in five years.

All but three of the Cornishmen had played previously at Lord’s. Only three of the Sessay side had even been to London, it’s reckoned, much less to headquarters.

They’re the sort of club that still fines players for arriving late, for dropping catches and – praise be – for swearing. Christopher Till was fined last Saturday – a little vicariously, some might suppose – because his mum pushed the bairn in front of the sight screen.

Club president Ian Till, Doreen’s husband and himself in the 1976 team, shares the exultation of the second chance saloon.

“Between now and then,” he says, “we’ve begged John to stay off that tractor. This time we aim to go one better.”

SESSAY’S a few miles south of Thirsk, the main East Coast railway line headlong out the back. Dame Kelly Holmes, the celebrated athlete, once described the village as the place she liked to go when she wanted to forget the world, and just watch good cricket.

The pub closed a century ago, shop and post office also long gone. None really knows the population, but it won’t be much more than 500.

There’s still St Cuthbert’s church, though, and a popular village school where former head teacher Heather Corner, a leading member of Sessay’s ladies’ XI, ensured that cricket was an essential part of the curriculum.

“We’d be up the field every Friday afternoon,” she recalls. “I like to think I taught them quite a bit.”

There’s a local legend about a sleeping giant – he may not have slept peacefully, someone killed him with a pickaxe – and a brass rubbing in memory of a 16th century parson, reputedly left as a newborn at the door of the parish church.

What other claims to fame? “Well,” says Doreen Till, “I think we’ve won the Tidy Village once or twice.”

It’s the cricket team, in action since at least 1850, which has kept Sessay on the map. George Freeman, the All England fast bowler, played for the village side in the late 19th century; Brian Flintoff – of whom more shortly – appears to have been around for most of the twentieth.

Until the advent of the National Village Cup in 1972, however, the most memorable match in the club’s history may have been in 1901 when Thirsk Victoria were all out for six, Sep Holliday taking 7-0 including five in five balls.

They gave him a plaque.

What it didn’t say was that Sessay, batting second, were all out for five.

They played for 100 years or more on a field yon side of the railway, allowed just seven flashing-light seconds to get across the unmanned crossing.

“The opposition hated it, especially if they’d come by bus,” recalls Brian Flintoff.

“We ourselves got quite used to it, but it’s amazing there weren’t any accidents.”

When High Speed Trains were introduced, however, the railway – well – drew a line. After four years fund raising and preparation, the club moved to the present impressive ground in the middle of the village.

The covers were a gift from the National Grid, which had pylons marching nearby. The only problems are flooding – there are photographs of kayaks, not cricket, on the outfield – and rabbits.

“Blessed rabbits,” says Brian.

Now sponsored by npower, the national competition probably has a lower profile since Haig made it to distinctive. Sometimes village boundaries appear (shall we say) to have been blurred, qualifications to have been somewhat equivocally qualified.

The most remarkable thing of all is that every one of Sessay’s likely Lord’s team has come up through the junior ranks. Every one has roots deep in that fertile North Yorkshire soil.

“There’s one or two have pads with their girlfriends in York,” says Brian Flintoff, 82, “but that’s the way it is these days, isn’t it?”

BRIAN and Margaret Flintoff have Sunday lunch on a Wednesday. “Always have done, it’s because of the cricket,” says Margaret cheerfully.

They’ve been wed 57 years.

“I knew from day one that I’d be married to cricket as well,”

she adds.

Tea’s laid when I arrive spot on 5pm on Wednesday – high tea, handsome tea, wonderfully generous tea.

Margaret apologies for it. “I don’t bake until Thursdays,”

she says.

Brian, also in the 1976 side, played for Sessay until he was 62, supposes that it was time to give someone else a go, continues to farm and – after 60 years – as an assiduous groundsman.

With Fred Baines he’s also just published a club history that includes a photograph of Sessay at Scorton Feast, 1939.

Smart in school uniform, the scorer’s B Flintoff.

The book’s now looking a little premature, however. “In a few weeks I may have to add another page,” he says.

The Tills, the Flintoffs, the Claytons and the Kays scatter the scorebook and regulate punctuate the list of officials. John is, of course, Brian’s lad. Fred Till, who played in 1976, is the father of Matthew and Richard, key men this time. Chris Till is Ian’s son, Tom Kay is David’s.

A family club? “Well, you could say that,” concedes Brian.

Brian went to Barnard Castle School, excelled at cricket, rugby and squash – “my name’s still on the plaques round the dining hall” – and was sufficiently good a slow left-arm bowler to be invited for Yorkshire trials and chosen for the second team’s final match of the season.

It was washed out. The following year he suffered from what still he calls the yips. Yorkshire preferred someone called Johnny Wardle, Brian decided to concentrate on his batting.

He and John are still the only father and son in the York Senior League hall of fame.

In 1976, they recall, five coach loads left for Lord’s.

“Everyone wanted to talk about us, television the lot.

We were a proper village team of farmers, wood carvers and so on,” says Brian. “In many ways we still are.

“One of the papers on the day of the final carried a photograph of a policeman walking through the village with a story about the most deserted village in England.

“It won’t be quite the same this time. There are a lot of newcomers; half the people don’t know anything about cricket, unfortunately.”

Margaret counsels against describing the village as sleepy, as others have done.

“There’s an amazing amount goes on here – a very good annual pantomime, bowls club, Women’s Institute, quizzes, toga, you name it.

Lots of things happen.”

Brian’s upbeat about their chances, opponents yet to be decided. “This could be the best squad we’ve ever had, certainly in fielding. If they play as well as they can, they’ll do it.”

THE cricket pavilion is part of a village hall that’s nearly as big as some villages. The familiar figure of Father Time stands over a plaque acknowledging the 1976 achievement and a clock given to commemorate it.

The clock’s long stopped at 10 15.

Doreen and Ian Till have come down for a chat amid the summer shadows. So has Heather Corner. Keith Houlston – captain in 1876, now club secretary – and John Flintoff.

Fred Till’s been unable to combine harvesting with a one-man media conference, Richard’s on his tractor behind the square leg boundary. Matthew and his mates are the county match at Chester-le-Street.

“If you thought I was nervous on Sunday, you should have seen my wife,”

says Keith. “She wasn’t just pacing up and down the ground, she was pacing up and down the bus.”

These days the club has three senior teams, four junior sides and is contemplating a revived ladies XI. All are expertly, enthusiastically coached.

“You should see it here on a Friday evening, you can’t move for kids,” says Ian.

“There’s plenty more where the first team came from.”

Jessica Watson, a member of the Under 15s, has scored four successive centuries for England girls’ under-15s and is a Wisden cricketer of the month.

Doreen admits the pressure on the 2010 side.

“Everyone knows about 1976, everyone’s always talking about it, or being reminded of it. They’ve had to forget it and get on.”

Sessay had also reached the semi-final, against Quarndon in 1983, with Quarndon needing 40-odd from the final five overs. “I was standing on the boundary thinking I was only ten minutes away from Lord’s again when they want and smashed them off,” John Flintoff recalls.

“All these years later we’re finally going back. I’m going to enjoy every minute.”

The column plans to make the journey, too. The Lord’s Day observed a little later.

And finally...

THE shortest tenure of a Premiership manager (Backtrack, August 17) was the 41 days that Les Reed spent in the Charlton Athletic hotseat in 2006.

With the sports now overlapping, John Phelan today invites the identity of the three amateur football internationals who’ve played cricket for Bishop Auckland.

A column for all seasons, we return on Tuesday.