FIRSTLY, an apology – or as the constabulary might suppose it, a confession. When Saturday’s column talked of “World Cup referee Howard Wilkinson”, it’s possible – as approximately half the readership noticed – that we meant Howard Webb.

It was definitely Sgt 274 Webb who was principal guest at the STL Northern League dinner on Friday, and who was clearly determined to make it.

Since he’d accepted shortly after the World Cup – usual fee – it was disconcerting last week to receive an email advising of another engagement – the Champions League final at Wembley.

He’d been asked to referee a warm-up match in Hyde Park on Saturday afternoon, given a VIP ticket for Wembley, offered five-star accommodation on Friday and Saturday evening.

Most speakers, including the absurdly well paid – much less those not receiving a penny expenses, like Howard – would simply and shamelessly have ducked the North-East trip.

He insisted on honouring it, but had to cancel the reservation at the Ramside Hall Hotel in Durham, where the dinner invariably is held.

He spoke entertainingly, remained until the 11.20pm conclusion, stayed to chat, to sign autographs and to smile broadly for photographs before – as is afraid of turning into a pumpkin – leaving on the stroke of midnight to drive the 250 miles to London.

Webb’s wonderful, or what?

It should also be said, that before an audience of 400 Northern League people, he took the opportunity to refute the familiar allegation of partisanship towards Manchester United.

“It’s become tiresome,”

said Howard. “My little lad Cristiano is very fed up of it all.”

PAUL FLETCHER, the excellent speaker, was also heading home afterwards but only to Lancashire – he’s back at Burnley as chief executive – and driven by his wife and childhood sweetheart, Sian. Sian had stayed in the bar reading a book. “She’s heard it all before,” said Paul.

SINCE we are a broad church – some would say an ecumenical one – the other talk at the Northern League dinner was of the demise of Etherley Cricket Club.

They were formed in 1850, incomparably chronicled in David Wilson’s 1992 history.

The book was called Franklin, after village schoolmaster Gordon Franklin – reckoned Etherley’s greatest servant though his dad, Billy the Hitter, was no mug, either.

The cover has a picture of Gordon with I T Botham, visiting Etherley in 1990 to watch his son – whatever happened to Liam Botham? – captain Yorkshire in the Under-13s match against Durham.

Subsequently, it’s said, Gordon was asked what it was like to meet the greatest.

“I don’t know, he didn’t say,”

he replied.

David Wilson had found the first rule book – a shilling fine for entering the ground by any means but through the gate, sixpence for swearing or smoking during practice.

There were many successes, the victorious captain once led through the village in a wheelbarrow, and in 1935 a minute of a cup triumph over Wolsingham.

“Medical attention to Mr Thomas Hodgson as the result of his testing the strength of a bus window. 1s 6d paid to Dr Heslop.”

Hodgson was the local butcher; his weakness, it was said, was Tizer.

What of Wolsingham?

What of Peases West, of Escomb, Heighington, Stanley, Croxdale, even Bakelite, all long since drawn stumps?

In 1975, the Haig Village Cup handbook noted that Etherley had 140 vicepresidents, 40 tea ladies and a distinguished history. By 1982 the club had 702 members, including 50 vicepresidents.

Now, though it’s hoped that a junior side will continue, they can’t even raise a team, much less the two senior sides which the Durham County league prefers.

David Wilson also noted that they’d folded once before, in 1857, but resumed four years later. Cricketers everywhere will hope that a distinguished history repeats itself.

ETHERLEY’S first recorded match was on October 19 1850 – not a bit autumnal? – between married men and single men. Mr William Booth was out “Took up ball” in the first innings and “run against wicket” in the second, both without scoring.

“His wife cannot have been impressed,” wrote David Wilson, “because a year later in the return fixture, Booth was playing for the single men and again failed to score in either innings.”

As the eagle-eyed Martin Birtle points out, this may not be dissimilar to an incident on Saturday in the North-East Premier League second division when Sunderland II batsman A Applegarth was given out “obstructing the field.”

This, of course, is Adam Applegarth, oft-criticised former chief executive of Northern Rock. Obstructing the field? “I wonder if he offered a pension plan to the opening bowler,” muses Martin, “or possibly a mortgage to the umpire worth twice the value of the house concerned?”

COINCIDENTALLY, there’s also a note from John Armstrong, Etherley second team cricketer – once felled by a flying sight screen at Shildon – and long-distance swimmer.

Last September, it may be recalled, the retired valuer had to be fished out of Salford docks at the end of the Great Manchester Swim and spent several days in hospital.

Now cricket and swimming careers may have ended simultaneously. “I had a dummy run for the Great North Swim and had to quit after 20 minutes, sympathising entirely with the poor old brass monkeys.”

Though still the country’s sixth-fastest over-65 over a watery mile, he’s been advised by the family to find a sport less susceptible to airborne sight screens and Manchester hospitals. Ideas, says John, would be much welcomed.

SPEAKING of I T Botham, which almost we were, the now-battered bat with which he smote the old enemy in the 1981 Headingley test – fuelled, we revealed a couple of weeks back, by substantial quantities of Theakston’s Old Peculier the night previously – goes under the hammer tomorrow at Bonham’s in Chester. With a split stump signed by 13 of the combatants, it’s expected to realise £2,500.

...and finally

WHAT Howard Webb, fellow referee Peter Willis and former Sunderland goalkeeper Tony Norman have in common (Backtrack, May 28) is that all three are, or were, police officers.

Chris Orton in Ferryhill, among those who never knew that Howard Wilkinson had refereed a World Cup final, today invites readers to name the British football league that is the world’s smallest.

Little big time, the column returns on Saturday.