MR Nigel Brierley’s true or false quizzes have become a 150-watt highlight of our Railroad to Wembley expeditions.

Last Saturday’s statements include that the Queen has never worn a trouser suit in public, that the king of diamonds is the only one of the four without a moustache and that Maine is the only US state with a monosyllabic name.

For the last of them we’re allowed to phone a friend. Our kidder not only knows the American states far better than I, he’s been to most of them.

The answer, however, must wait until the end of the column.

Nigel’s also telling of a match he witnessed in West Yorkshire a fortnight previously in which a penalty went out for a throw-in, the taker having rather spectacularly gone a-over-t. Has ever it happened before?

Saturday’s the FA Vase fourth round, the last 32, though three of the four remaining Ebac Northern League clubs are at home and the fourth, West Auckland, at Sunderland RCA.

Five of us head for Hebburn Town v Shepshed Dynamo, buoyed considerably by the northbound guard who, on production of the senior railcard, asks if I’m sure I’m over 60.

Either he’s had something other than milk on his cornflakes or he’s lying through his teeth.

We have a couple in the Bodega, a glorious Victorian pub on the way up to St James’ Park, then catch the Metro to Hebburn and have another in the Conservative Protestant Club, to which is attached the Hebburn Orange Hall.

They’re at once friendly, none seeking to ask which of the dual membership boxes we claim to tick. The club’s own credentials appear to be a copy of the Daily Express on the bar and a photograph of Her Majesty on the wall.

Whether or not the monarch is wearing a trouser suit, it would be impolitic at this stage to disclose.

Shepshed’s in Leicestershire, just off the M1, once said to be England’s biggest village – Sedgefield may now claim that distinction – and to have more pubs per head than anywhere else in the land.

Now there are 14,000 inhabitants and just seven pubs, a thought best described as sobering.

The team – formerly Shepshed Charterhouse, nee Shepshed Albion – plays in the Midland Football League, that of Sporting Khalsa, Coventry Sphinx and AFC Wulfrunians.

Hebburn’s on the south bank of the Tyne, the big league majority said to lean towards Sunderland rather than Newcastle, the club founded in 1912 at the instigation of Alphonse Reyrolle, who gave his name to the mighty engineering works thereabouts.

Well remembered football heroes like Arsenal double winner George Armstrong, Manchester United (and Darlington) goalkeeper Ray Wood and Aston Villa FA Cup winner Johnny Dixon all started with Reyrolle Juniors.

For the senior side, life hasn’t always been easy. Finally admitted to the Northern League in 1989, ups and downs included enforced relegation 15 years ago – “unfairly” says Saturday’s programme – because the ground wasn’t deemed up to scratch.

Only a couple of years ago, the programme adds, gates were barely in double figures. After a transfusion at the top, things changed.

Now there are more than 500 youngsters in 50 teams and a transformed ground. Saturday’s 795 crowd is by far the biggest in the Vase that day. The president’s Jason Cook, the comedian whose 2012 television series was simply called Hebburn.

Shepshed offered formidably opposition. Could Hebburn still be laughing at five o’clock?

The ground may have almost as many pay huts than once it had spectators. Fairy lights, Christmas decorations, even a New Year marquee survive until Twelfth Night. A sign outside the clubhouse reads “No one goes home sober”; it says nothing about getting in drunk.

The home side – the Hornets – start badly, trail in the 30th minute, are grateful that a Shepshed penalty shortly afterwards threatens to knock the fairy from atop the last-rites Christmas tree and equalise through Michael Richardson’s 25-year free kick just before half-time.

The second half’s more confident, Hebburn leading through Luke Sullivan and then stoutly defending for 20 minutes after Dan Smith is sent off for having both feet in the grave.

Most of the 795 rehearse the well known song about telling their ma they won’t be home for tea. The same may apply to those of us on the Railroad – the Protestant Conservative Club’s on the way back to the station.

It’s fallacious to suppose that the Queen has never publicly worn a trouser suit, just as it is to assert that the king of diamonds is the only one without a stiff upper lip. That’s the king of hearts. It’s entirely the case, however, that Maine alone is monosyllabic – our kid was right all along

The news that few in North-East football wanted is that Hebburn have again been drawn to home – to West Auckland, the Ebac Northern League’s other survivors – in the last 16 on February 2. We’ll probably be back.

….and finally, last week’s column somewhat improbably sought the name of the Woodentops’ cow. It was Buttercup, as John Allison in Shildon was first to realise.

Readers are today invited to suggest the yet more famous Hebburn lad who was the football club president before Jason Cook.

The answer to that one next week.