AMONG the very best things about Shildon winning the Northern League last Wednesday evening was to have been that I got to present the awards and (of course) to make a carefully crafted little speech.

Crowd and players would have been reminded that it was precisely 75 years and two days since last the Railwaymen lifted the trophy. Since they’d waited three-quarters of a century, another half an hour while the league chairman hammered ecstatically on wouldn’t have made much difference at all.

The Northern League had started 1939-40 with 14 clubs, lost six by December because of “wartime difficulties” and, re-formed, soon dwindled to six following the loss of Willington and Tow Law.

So the team which took the title for the fifth time in eight seasons – “Shildon champions again,” said the Echo headline, almost resignedly – played just ten games and still won by six points, from Bishop Auckland.

The clincher came on April 27 1940, a 7-2 win over neighbours West Auckland. Jack Downing, who’d scored 61 league and cup goals in 1936-37, added four more.

Sport continued elsewhere, too, the first round of the two-legged Football League (Wartime) Cup drawing 5,018 to Feethams to watch Darlington lose 3-2 to Sunderland.

Sadly, hostilities appear also to have broken out on the field, Sunderland inside right Harry Thompson sent off – and him a wartime special constable, an’ all. The crowd became so excited that part of the fencing collapsed.

Portrack Shamrocks beat South Bank East End in the North Riding Senior Cup final at Ayresome Park, Consett beat Spennymoor United 10-2 and Roger of Murton hit a second half hat-trick of penalties in the Wearside League Cup semi-final win over Dawdon.

War or not, there was still racing at Stockton, boxing in Sunderland and greyhounds at Coundon, where Shildon Lad proved an appropriate winner.

Talking a good game, all this might have been shared with the hundreds at Bedlington last Wednesday, save for the fact that a wholly unexpected 1-1 draw meant that Shildon finished runners-up. Some things take a little longer.

SO the title went for the first time to Marske United, who’d finished their fixtures a week earlier, and last Saturday I went to Marske for the presentation.

Officially it’s Marske-by-the-Sea, though a stranger might need a divining rod in order to find the water. Officially it’s still termed a village though it grows, as smart folk say, exponentially. Officially, come to think, the ground’s called Mount Pleasant though Windy Hill Lane blows, more appropriately, nearby.

Marske’s story is endearingly told at Winkie’s Castle, a little cruck-house folk museum opened ten years ago in memory of village cobbler Jack Anderson but named after his puss cat.

Jack’s home may have been his castle, but it was Winkie’s, too.

Jack was a hoarder, 6,000 items left on his death and strict instructions, says the nice lady at the museum, not to get shot of any of them. The collection’s augmented by a 20-minute video on village history and by a timeline on the wall.

Malcolm Campbell set his first speed record on Marske sands – 1922, a Sunbeam, 138mph – Biggles author W E Johns flew from RAF Marske and sometimes by the seat of his pants, Charles Dickens is said once to have visited in vain search for Captain Cook’s father’s grave and Maggie Thatcher came to visit the delightful Charlotte Hughes, then Britain’s oldest inhabitant.

The Ebac Northern League trophies are to be presented after a supporters’ charity match between the Chicken Run Collective and the Tin Shed Titans. Anna Turley, Labour’s parliamentary candidate thereabouts, makes a late substitute appearance wearing No 10. “It’s coincidence,” she insists.

United stage the champagne-soaked presentation tremendously well, and with a social evening in the Top House to follow. I make a carefully crafted little speech, tell them they’ve richly deserved it. They have.

MOSS HOLTBY, Marske’s multiple-award winning programme editor, became a first-time father two weeks ago. Poppy, his daughter, was just two days old when she attended her first United match – is this a record? – and was there again for Saturday’s presentation, when they really wet the baby’s head. That’s her photographed with the Northern League championship trophy: it gives whole new meaning to being on the pot.

THE original plan on Saturday afternoon had been to attend the charity match at Newton Aycliffe FC in support of Paul McGeary’s extraordinary fund raising efforts for leukaemia and lymphoma research.

Paul, a maths teacher at Sedgefield, was diagnosed with leukaemia last November and, while still a sick man, vowed to raise £10,000 to help fight it. The match raised £912, bringing the total for his Not One Inch charity to £9,589 with several events to come.

Recent donations have included £250 from footballer Daniel Moore, known perhaps inevitably as Bobby, from his participation in the Stockton Duathlon. Bobby Moore plays for Shildon.

THORNABY’S in Stockton South, among today’s most marginally contested constituencies. It’s perhaps appropriate that the Ernest Armstrong Cup final is played there on Monday.

Ernest was Northern League president, Deputy Speaker of the House of Commons and MP for NW Durham – Consett and Crook and hard-hewn places like that. Nothing much marginal about NW Durham.

He’d also played centre half for Stanley United, known for reasons which hitherto we have explored as Sikey. “Some of today’s tackles have been quite challenging,” says Hilary, his ennobled daughter, though they might have used a different term on the Hill Top, back in Ernest’s day.

John Burton, Tony Blair’s former constituency agent in Sedgefield, is there, too. He’d played for both teams in his day, a formidable striker whose goals total rises to this day.

The game’s closely contested, just as Stockton South will be. Norton and Stockton Ancients beat Billingham Town 2-1 after extra time. The ground’s lovely, the weather perfect. Another little speech, I offer thanks to Thornaby, to the teams and to the Lord Almighty, who sometimes may not get the credit He deserves.

THEREAFTER to Bishop Auckland for an hour’s live broadcast on Bishop FM – the Northern League Show – and only Coronation Street by way of counter-attraction.

Usually, they say, they have to play music to fill the gaps in conversation. No need here. Ofcom requires that community radio stations like Bishop FM offer at least 25 per cent speech. They’ve just upped their goal difference.

BACK to Bishop the following day, and rather earlier than planned. Heritage Park is the venue for the League Cup final, Newton Aycliffe v Shildon, but at 9am it might more appropriately host the coxless fours.

A referee inspects at 1pm, says it’s unplayable, agrees to come back in two hours. Half a dozen volunteer ground force men simply redouble their magnificent, mud-in-your-eye efforts. The league chairman sneaks off to Costa for a coffee and a sandwich.

The match gets the go ahead, 604 people turn up, Shildon gain some consolation for the previous week’s bitter disappointment with a 2-0 win. It’s late, it’s cold and it’s wet and the speech is brief. I’m finally lost for words.