WHEN I look back on my time in the editor’s chair, the dealings I’ve had with those in the hot-seat at Darlington Football Club are sure to figure prominently.

There have certainly been some challenging figures at the helm – and no prizes for guessing who was the biggest headache.

In stark contrast to he who must not be named, Dave Mills was a pleasure to deal with – a man who threw himself into helping the club out of its financial crisis simply because he cared.

A retired deputy headteacher, Dave could quite easily have put his feet up and smelled the roses. Instead, he put himself under intense pressure as a key figure in the fight to get Quakers back home to Darlington after their painful fall from league status.

Unlike some of the others who have come and gone, never once did anyone have cause to question Dave’s motives. He was just a hard-working fan who was left holding the fort – and what a brilliant job he has done.

I was sad, but not surprised, to see his announcement last week that he was stepping down as the club’s director with immediate effect. It is no secret that Dave suffered a mini-stroke recently and he rightly took the view that his own health took precedence over his passion for his local beloved club.

Dave Mills is a humble man who doesn’t seek praise but he deserves the gratitude of anyone who cares about Darlington Football Club.

Indeed, his outstanding, selfless efforts should be recognised by the wider community.

Here’s wishing Dave a healthy, peaceful retirement.

IT was a privilege last week to speak at the funeral of my former journalism lecturer at Darlington College, Robin Crowther.

In advance of the funeral at Holy Trinity Church in Darlington, the anecdotes had flowed in, including one from ex-Northern Echo editor Peter Sands.

Peter remembered the time he was working with Robin as a sub-editor at the Echo and was offered a lift home in the great man’s infamous mustard Allegro.

Robin opened the car door and got in the driver’s seat while Peter got in the passenger seat. Then they just sat there going nowhere, with Robin in deep thought.

“Are you OK, Robin?” Peter asked.

“What’s this?” replied Robin, pointing at a crook-lock on his steering wheel.

Peter, starting to worry about Robin’s state of mind told him it was a crook-lock.

“What’s a crook-lock?” asked Robin.

Peter duly explained the basic function of a crook-lock and suggested that Robin must surely know as he’d bought it.

After a long pause, Robin exclaimed: “But I don’t have a crook-lock!”

They were in the wrong car… Robin’s mustard Allegro was parked elsewhere.

“He roared with laughter – Robin could always laugh at himself,” wrote Peter.

Robin inspired and entertained generations of young journalists, and his family should take comfort from the wave of affection that has followed news of his death.

The Northern Echo:

WHEN, in 1990, George Bush declared that he hated broccoli and banned it from Air Force One, California broccoli farmers were outraged and delivered ten tons of the knobbly vegetable to the White House.

Last week, during my daily Headline Challenge slot on BBC Tees, the discussion was about hated foods and I nominated broccoli because I’ve been force-fed it most of my life.

Later that day, I had a meeting with “Teesside Together” campaigner Dave Roberts, who has his eyes on standing to be elected mayor, and he duly turned up at my office with a floret of broccoli.

If he wants to get on my good side, he’s going to have to try a lot harder.

FINALLY a thank you card has arrived, beautifully penned in calligraphy.

It follows one of my talks and is signed “from all your old lady friends at Stainton and Streatlam Women’s Institute”.

It’s probably best if I don’t show my wife.

The Northern Echo: