BRIAN FLETCHER and I were once near neighbours, if not particularly close friends. That was in West Auckland, just a few miles from his roots in the Butterknowle area.

Though very much a local hero – a good lad, a quiet lad and quite possibly a misunderstood one – he’d taken himself off to live in rural mid-Wales when last we spoke.

It was a part of the world, said the column in May 2004, where men were men and sheep very much more plentiful. Brian was breeding Welsh cobs in a Carmarthenshire village – “more l’s than illegibility.”

“They’re fantastic people, the landscape’s pretty much like home and the weather’s much warmer,” he said. “There’s peace of mind here, you can go to bed with your door unlocked. You can’t go down to Wales and tell the Welsh people what to do, but they couldn’t have been more welcoming.”

The three-times Grand National winning jockey had fleetingly returned to public attention after being an answer on Question of Sport – and no matter that Sue Barker supposed him the least-well remembered of Ginger McCain’s three triumphant riders.

“No one’s even mentioned Question of Sport,” said Brian. “Perhaps they’ve got better things to do on a Friday night down here.”

HIS first Aintree winner had been in 1968 on Red Alligator, owned by Bishop Auckland butcher Jack Manners, trained in Bishop Auckland by Denys Smith and a bit of a headache for Bishop bookie Dennis Dowson.

“Fortunately most of the bets have only been a shilling or half a crown. I only lost a few hundred pounds,” said Dennis.

Brian’s wife Barbara, a nurse at Bishop Auckland hospital, was one of the bob-each-way brigade. She won £1.

His No 1 fan, however, may have been his God fearing mum Ruby, who lived in Cockfield, worked at Glaxo in Barnard Castle and – 42 years ago – sought out the column with a poem she’d written about her much-battered lad.

You don’t have to tell me Red Rum’s a great horse

But who guides him round – why, his jockey, of course….

While they can all shout and cheer for Red Rum

I’ll be one in a million, I’ll just cheer for my son.

Soon afterwards, Ruby was invited to a posh London lunch to promote Mothers’ Day. Other mums included Chris Bonington’s, Patrick Moore’s and Esther Rantzen’s,

The following December she was in Hear All Sides – “In my view the real reason for Brian being a good jockey is that he was taught by the Hand of God,” she wrote, though his earthly father got a bit of credit, too.

The poem, if not the Hear All Sides letter, was still framed on the wall in a farmhouse in mid-Wales.

BRIAN died last week, aged 69, only the second man to have ridden three National winners – the others, of course, on Red Rum. The first triple winner was Ernie Piggott, whose grandson may be even better recalled in racing circles.

Piggott’s second and third wins – 1918 and 1919, different courses – were on Poethlyn, which apparently is Welsh for hot lake.

The horse was bred and owned by Major Hugh Peel, who had an estate at Overton, near Wrexham, sold for seven guineas to a Shrewsbury hotelier but bought back for 50 guineas and the promise of the first Dee salmon caught on the major’s estate.

The 1918 National was at Gatwick, the site now occupied by the airport, after Aintree had been requisitioned. Poethlyn won by four lengths.

We told the story back in 2004, the North-East connection that Martin Birtle – then as now a loyal Backtrack reader – had a painting of Poethlyn, with the stable cat, above the mantelpiece in Billingham.

His mother, who grew up in Overton, had been given it by Major Peel. Above the mantelpiece, confirms Martin, it still hangs.

TOMMY STODDART, who helped change the face and the fortunes of Mainsforth Cricket Club, has died, aged 66. In 2012 they finished bottom of the old Durham County League without so much as a win; now they’re in the North East Premier.

The old wooden pavilion has been replaced by a posh new brick building, there’s an electronic scoreboard and youth teams at Under 11, Under 13, Under 15 and Under 18.

“For five years he never stopped going to meetings, drawing up plans, seeking grants,” says Christine, his widow. “He loved coaching the kids, loved seeing them develop. Tom also did far more housework at Mainsforth Cricket Club than ever he did here.”

Chiefly Tom’s role was administrative, chairman and then president, but in 2014 he was still persuaded to keep wicket for the seconds – “still had his kit in the boot,” Christine recalls – which, ironically, was how doctors discovered that cancer had returned.

In 2005 he’d agreed to donate a kidney to his son, Paul, until tests discovered a tumour on one of his own kidneys.

“Before the match they were throwing the ball about, warming up, when Tom thought he’d broken his arm,” says Christine. “The doctors said that you didn’t break your arm that easily, and they discovered a renal tumour in the arm.”

Born in Ferryhill Station, where the club is based, he’d moved to Mainsforth itself 16 years ago – the only player in the small south Durham village from which the club takes its name.

He was also a good enough footballer to be offered trials with Preston North End but broke his leg as a 17-year-old. He remained familiar in local leagues and in the Over 40s League for Sedgefield and for the North Briton at Aycliffe.

“Compulsory Friday night training was in the bar, keeping fit for the Saturday morning game,” recalls Alan Courtney, who helped run the North Brit team. “Tommy will be greatly missed by very many people.”

Tom ran a successful engineering company in Aycliffe, retiring nine years ago. He and Christine were both Newcastle United season ticket holders and played golf together.

“He was a brilliant organiser, everything he did was meticulous and in beautiful handwriting,” recalls Durham Cricket League president and former Mainsforth chairman John Irvine.

“Tommy provided the impetus, the contacts and the organisation for almost everything that’s happened and he was also able to delegate, which many of us can’t. He was an amazing man.”

His funeral is at St Aidan’s church in Chilton at 1 30pm on Monday January 23 and afterwards, inevitably, at the transformed Mainsforth Cricket Club.