A day at the races...

Leading Middleham trainer Mark Johnston, it said, had claimed that Newcastle racecourse was going (as it were) to the dogs.

"It is hard to imagine that the decline in standards at this once great track could have been more rapid," said Johnston, a view echoed by the presumably trained Observer.

"Poor attendances and the continued scrapping of important races at Newcastle simply reinforce his point," the paper added.

Newcastle is one of eight courses, Sedgefield litigiously among them, owned by Sir Stan Clarke's Northern Racing group. On Wednesday, just in time for the 2.25, we reported to the starting post.

"I don't know nothing about racing either," said the taxi driver from Newcastle railway station in a double negative sort of a way, though he'd once worked for a brewery which delivered the dregs to a well-known stable. "They put it in the mash," said the driver.

"It beats the hell out of garlic any day."

The attendance was indifferent, the cards little better. The main stand was perhaps a quarter full, the second stand sat seven.

"You'll see more queuing for a pee at Cheltenham than have come through the gate today," said Matt Seymour, the Echo's racing correspondent emeritus.

Everyone thought Newcastle's facilities much improved under Sir Stan's tenure, however, though the prize money was akin to the top line on the Essoldo bingo and the fields ploughed and scattered.

"I don't agree with anything Mark Johnston says," said Sutton Bank trainer Les Eyre.

"Even his wife has to call him Mr Johnston now."

Bernard Hathaway, retired Bishop Auckland businessman and long-time racehorse owner, thought Newcastle's crowds had fallen markedly except at major meetings. "There are plenty of poor horses around, but people have to race them somewhere and there are always plenty of entries here.

"I think Mark's been racing too much at Ascot, or eating too many dinners at the Savoy. He shouldn't be knocking places like this; there are still thousands around who love it."

The racing, and thus the column, was in any case sidetracked by a vast outpouring of affection, and of several tots of whisky, for 78-year-old Denys Smith, whose retirement after almost 50 years in training was announced this week.

Admission to Tattersall's - old Tattersall appears ubiquitous - is £10, for which punters receive an officious little badge of the sort that the column last wore when judging the junior mounted fancy dress at Swaledale Show.

While the junior mounted fancy dress might have been marginally slower than some of the entries in the EBF Renault Kangoo Van Maiden Stakes (Class D), several intending participants in this weekend's Great North Run could comfortably have beaten them over six furlongs - and with more audible excitement at a Friday night flapping track.

If they thought that the horses were a bit past it, however, they should have seen the cadaverous look of the curry in the canteen.

Denys's horse, trained for the Duchess of Northumberland, was unplaced.

"She's very sorry to see me go, doesn't want me to retire," he said, and the Duchess will be unalone in that.

Denys, dapper, double breasted, greatly distinguished, is a Newcastle fan, too - "apart from the prize money, which is bloody bad" - though his favourite course remains Sedgefield, where he's trained 145 of his near 1,700 winners.

"Nearer to home, too," said the Bishop Auckland-based trainer. He won the Grand National in 1968 and the Lincoln the following year, had four in a day at Perth - for four different owners - and another four, all Willie Carson rides, at Redcar.

It could have been five. "He beat me on his other bugger," said Denys.

Matt Seymour, the nearest thing alive to a walking equine encyclopaedia, also recalled that Denys had been the first man to train 50 winners in a flat season and another 50 over jumps the following winter.

"Peter Easterby was the second, Mary Reveley the third," said Matt and could probably have named runners and riders, an' all. "I once had three lasts at Carlisle," said Les Eyre.

We'd all retired to the members' bar for a drink, despite the attentions of the flunkey in a jacket the colour of Lowcock's limeade who guarded, like Cerberus, the gate.

"You know who I am," says Denys. "Yes, but I don't know who he is," said limeade man. The trainer, happily, prevailed.

"I was only doing my job," said limeade man, though the chief difference between Posh Bar and Plebs Bar was that Roughwith, £2.50 a pint, came in glass and not plastic.

Les Eyre, 59, also retires next month, though he's taking a few horses to Spain.

"Want an assistant?" asked Denys, though he'll remain at the empty Holdforth yard.

"My wife was born there. We're not shifting now," he said.

"Assistant?" said Les. "I've rather have no one else on earth."

We talked of Tow Law, to which all columns lead, of Denys's early days and taxi business in Aycliffe Village, of born again Christians ("I know one who swears like a trooper," said Les) and inevitably of Red Alligator's win in the 1968 National, when the prize package was just £17,000. Lester Piggott somehow galloped into it, too.

"He talks like this," said Denys, and essayed a passable impersonation.

It proved a highly-convivial afternoon, not least because no one seemed to be taking much notice of the action.

If that's Newcastle Races, it seems a pretty good bet from here.

Stockton's Ancients history

Evidence of an old, old story, Dave Dale sends Stockton AFC's annual report and balance sheet from 1890-91 - expenditure alarmingly exceeding income, liabilities £320.

The Ancients, as even then they were known, were professionals in the Northern League's second season. The eight-team league included Middlesbrough, known (apparently) as the Scabs and Middlesbrough Ironopolis, known (inexplicably) as the Washers.

The principal expenditure had been on a Grand Stand, written in two words and described in club secretary George Watson's report as 'magnificent'.

"The interior accommodation, I am told, is superior to that possessed by any club in England," he added. Other costs included £1,073 for wages and training, £26 9s 6d for the polliss and a few coppers short of £100 for 'entertaining own and visiting teams.'

"It had to stop," Watson declared.

"Visiting teams now require big guarantees to pay high wages and we must let them provide their own creature comforts at their own expense."

Receipts included £21 from transfers, £1 15s from the sale of old timber - the two should not, of course, be confused - £1,762 from Victoria Ground gate money and £44 6s 4d from the ladies' committee to buy a billiards table.

The annual meeting was in the Temperance Hall. Since they were good at raising money but clearly didn't understand men's matters, ladies were forbidden to attend. Another slice of Ancients history.

John "Custer" Laycock, player/manager of the Hole in the Wall FC in Darlington, has imposed a 2pm deadline on arrivals before a 2.30pm kick-off. The first match it operated, Custer himself turned up at ten past two and - rules being rules - was obliged to drop himself.

"I'm always last," observed his teammate Kev Cox, "and you're not far behind."

As if things weren't rosy enough just now, the Boro have another little cause for celebration at the Bolton match tomorrow - the fanzine Fly Me To The Moon marks its 300th issue.

"I can't believe it's happening when we're on a high," says Rob Nicholls, editor since the first issue in 1989. "The 100th issue was when we were getting relegated from the Premiership for the first time and the 200th for a match that was snowed off. We absolutely tormented Spurs last week, it's wonderful to have something to look forward to."

To his regret, however, FMTTM has lost its proud position as the country's most prolific fanzine - recently overtaken by The Oatcake, a Stoke City fanzine that's also published for every home game.

"It's because they play more games in the second division," says Rob. "They've an editor called Smudge who's been bragging for years about how they were going to overtake us."

The answer, however improbable, would be for the Potters to make the Premiership and Boro to slip a couple of divisions.

"On reflection," says the 300th birthday boy, "I think we'll stay where we are."

Issue 300 contains interviews with Brazilian legend Jairzinho and Middlesbrough skipper Gareth Southgate, a bit of a rush job because Rob's been working on an archaeological dig beneath the plumes of Ferrybridge power station. "Ah," sighs the Boro boy, "home from home."

Still with the Boro, youth director David Parnaby confirms that there is indeed a young Slaven (Backtrack, October 1) in the Under 19s - and that Jonathan is no relation whatever to the celebrated Bernie, who'll be 42 in November.

Monkey Business, the Hartlepool United fanzine, has a piece by a marvellous old boy called Sentinel who writes that he buys The Northern Echo for the Mike Amos columns.

"Drunken ramblings," says Monkey Business - of Sentinel, as it happens, though we're considering litigation jointly.

And finally...

The last county cricketer to play football for Sunderland (Backtrack, October 1) was Mike Hellawell, who won two England caps at outside right, played once for Warwickshire in 1962 and was last heard of running a greengrocer's in his native Keighley.

In the Hole in the Wall programme, meanwhile, they were asking how many of the 220 players who kicked off this season's Premiership were born outside the UK or the Republic of Ireland.

The column's back to its place of origin on Tuesday.

Published: 04/10/2002