The glove story is over for Morrison

"I'm retiring from keeping wicket in order to improve my batting technique," he says, and even the end of that 40-year glove affair is hedged about with leylandii.

A bit better batting may nonetheless be overdue. In four full decades around the top division of the NYSD League he has yet to hit a half century. Dave Morrison hasn't so much been wicketkeeper/ batsman as wicketkeeper/ tail-end Charlie, though the Northern Despatch once called him the best number 11 in the league.

"You can't be good at everything, but I was quite proud of that," he says.

The news of his retirement in last Friday's column had been based on an e-mail from Valerie Tait, his partner.

Between the lines, however, there was room to pass a fast full toss without disturbing the bails.

"He has finally decided to hang up his wicketkeeping gloves," Valerie had written - but not, we should have guessed, his pads.

"All that happens if you retire completely is that you walk around the ground criticising," says Dave.

They'd been on holiday in Cyprus, returned on Wednesday with the handbag he'd bought in which to keep his pipe and cigars and things - "he'll be wanting a pink ribbon next," said the bar lads in the Builders Arms in Darlington, where he's a hugely popular gaffer.

"If I'd known you were coming back, I wouldn't have come in," someone said.

It's an old fashioned street corner pub, cheap beer and good crack. The landlord wore unforgettable tartan trews ("£13 for two pairs from Catterick market" he said, shamelessly) and a T-shirt with the slogan "Cricket is life: everything else is mere details."

It might perhaps have added that there is no peace for the wicketkeeper.

He'd first kept for Darlington RA in 1962, a Beatle browed youngster with abundant ability, batting right handed and writing with his left.

"It's what's called ambidextrous, how you're taught at sports schools," he tells the bar of the Builders. (Or in his case, Corporation Road juniors.)

It was the first of five spells with the RA. Between times he'd bent the knee just about everywhere - Darlington, Bishop Auckland, Richmond, Northallerton, Shildon BR, Barton, Great Broughton - but never represented Durham County.

Valerie says it's his biggest regret; Dave - for 20 years a newsagent and sub-postmaster in Blackwell - says there was none better.

"Every time I played I went out to prove that I was the best. I still do that now. You have to make a point, don't you."

He'd broken his thumb in this year's first game, his hands preserved for posterity by marvelling medics at the Memorial.

"The doctor took photographs, all sorts, said he'd seen nothing like it and wanted them for his lectures," says Dave, though the circuitous contortions of the little finger on his right hand are not - he insists - from catch as catch can, but from a six he hit for Barton.

"Too much bottom hand."

His knees are fine and his hands no problem, he reckons, it's the old eyes which are getting a bit squinty.

"I used to be able to see the ball coming out of the arm, know which way it was going. Now it's intuition."

That's what got him the broken thumb, says Val, and produces the scrapbook lovingly kept by Dave's old mum since the day he got married in the morning and played against Guisborough in the afternoon.

"I got 13 that day," he says, and leaves unspoken the suggestion that it might have been unlucky for some.

From the pages of that old College Note Book leap well-remembered names like Gus Barkass-Williamson, Dudley Hughf and Doug Biott, and a cutting in which he scored two not out. Old Mrs Morrison may have been a bit desperate that year.

Back for the final five games of this season, he claimed two stumpings - one of them the opposing wicketkeeper - in the last one to help deny neighbours Darlington the NYSD League title.

"The worst thing in the world is getting stumped by the other wicketkeeper. It was young Pagey, good player, he'll remember that."

His batting aggregate and average were both four - "a straight four off Duncan Johnson of Darlington," he says, though Mr Johnson may not remember the stroke in the same way.

Somewhat miraculously, he also avoided injury in the last match.

"It always seems to happen like that, I've had more black eyes than Soft Mick," says Dave, and Soft Mick has certainly had his troubles.

The key has been concentration, he says, that and hand/eye co-ordination, though he might have added competitiveness as well.

Valerie recalls a Village Cup match, Barton away to Cloughton near Scarborough, called off in a near monsoon. "It didn't rain, it tanked down, so the team went off to the ten pin bowling in Scarborough.

"He'd never been in a bowling alley in his life, I don't know how he got those fingers in the ball, but you can guess who won."

Natural sporting ability, says Dave.

He's now RA's team manager - "we won eight games last season, more than in the past three seasons - and hopes shortly to bring in a new wicketkeeper.

"I'm 90 per cent certain. He's as good as I am, but about 40 years younger.

"I told the boys after the last game that I'd finished wicketkeeping, but if anything goes wrong, maybe there's a lad with a bit experience can fill in."

Stan Cummins, tipped by Jack Charlton to be Britain's first £1m footballer, turns out for Ferryhill Greyhound tomorrow.

Ferryhill lad, in the Greyhound as a bit pup, Stan spent 16 years coaching in America but, divorced from his American wife, is now back at his mum's in the village.

"He might need to lose a few pounds, but when he drops his shoulder he still sends four defenders the other way," says Greyhound manager Frank Stocker.

Stan, usually prefixed "Little", played for Middlesbrough, Crystal Palace and in two spells for Sunderland before leaving English football at 26.

"Basically I'd just had enough of it," he told the column last year.

Now he's looking for work, applied unsuccessfully for the Bishop Auckland manager's job, hopes that Peter Reid may take advantage of his expertise.

"I've spoken to him once since I came back, but he seems to have had a few days away after the Newcastle match," he says.

He's already made friendly appearances for the Greyhound's Over 40s team, sustained a hamstring injury but is again up and running.

"I'd not played 11-a-side for 17 years but I'm down from 12st 4lbs to 11st 8lbs since coming home.

"I hope there's still a future for me in football."

Frank Stocker's already impressed with the new man in the Greyhound traps.

"Stan's still a pro at heart, still first in the dressing room, still knows what to do with the ball when he gets it."

Tomorrow's match, kick-off 10.30am, is away at the Owton Manor in Hartlepool.

WhilE Little Stan might add one or two to the Owton Manor touchline, there'll be rather more at Hartlepool United tomorrow afternoon - and rather more photographers than usual, an' all.

One of the assistant referees, we hear, is Sgt Nigel Miller, direct from the custody suite at Bishop Auckland police station.

Bob Fox was doubtless a Stan Cummins fan, too, though in Charlie Hurley childhood he used to leave early to watch Dr Who.

"It was a few years before I became a really keen Roker Ender," admits Bob, the latest "Celebrity Supporter" interviewed in the Sunderland southerners' magazine Wear Down South.

Bob Fox? He was born in Seaham, sang in St. John's choir, now lives in Chester-le-Street and is reckoned "Britain's top folk bloke" by Daily Telegraph folk music critic Colin Randall, who also wrote the interview.

While remaining a "21st century troubadour", Bob has yet to visit the Stadium of Light but follows club fortunes wherever he is in the world.

Colin, Shildon lad originally, not only has Sunderland's woes to bear but has a daughter, Nathalie, who plays for QPR Ladies.

They've just lost 17-1.

Ken Baily, not World Cup Willie, was England's mascot (Backtrack, September 24) in the 1966 finals.

Baily, self-appointed, was a former Bournemouth Conservative councillor and evening newspaper gossip columnist - he called himself Genevieve - who carried the torch in the 1948 Olympics and was in the Guinness Book for running the most recorded miles.

He died in 1993, aged 82, described in an Independent obituary as the most famous man in Bournemouth.

Apart from the John Bull in a china shop bit, his most famous chivalrous actions were probably at Twickenham.

When Erica Roe became Britain's most celebrated streaker, it was Ken's union jack which helped preserve some modesty for the nation.

And finally...

Richard Thurston in Stockton recalls that Chester-le-Street will next June become international cricket's newest test match venue, the eighth in England.

Since naming the other seven would be too easy, Richard - a bit of a world traveller these days - also sends photographs of himself at the last ground ("not huge, but any County in England would like it") to stage its maiden Test.

Readers are invited to name it. The answer to that much more testing question next Tuesday.

Published: ??/??/2002