Cec’s war cr y: ‘You’ll be the first and last that I will give a thumping’
This week Shrovetide stalwart BEV OAKLEY rounds off her Legends series, in which she has kindly allowed us to serialise a book she is working on, telling the stories of some of the giants of the game. Here she fondly remembers her favourite player, Cec Ch
MY initial interest in Shrovetide Football from the age of 11 in 1966 grew to a passion over the years due in no small part to the privilege I enjoyed of being closely related to some of the game’s most influential players.
The greatest Shrovetide player of my lifetime must be my uncle, Cec Challinor. I am biased, of course; I loved him dearly. He passed away much too soon.
Where Shrovetide football was concerned, he had it all. Cec was a complete player – in his youth he was an exceptional runner, scoring the quickest goal from a throw up.
In 1951, aged just 17, he goaled at Clifton in the first 20 minutes. From his teens to his 30s, he played football, which kept him fit and able to run.
Another fast goal in which Cec was instrumental, came in 1959 when he helped his mate, John Mansfield to Sturston to goal in 30 minutes from throw up. My mother, Beryl Blood, née Mee, who was a Down’ard and never let Cec forget he had run to Sturston with John.
Not only could Cec run, he also played in the river, and was a master at getting the ball out of the hug without anyone realising. (Pop Robotham called him “the ghost”).
Cec was as wily as a fox and players would not cross him as he knew how to use his fists.
Cec had boxed as a boy and abroad in the Army for two years. He was a good technical boxer and was dubbed “Boy Challinor” at a young age as a star member of Ashbourne Boxing Club.
As a result, he never lacked in confidence – and many thought him big headed. He hated losing, that’s for sure, so you either loved or hated him. I loved him and miss him to this day.
As a young man, he was of slim build with dark curly hair and the most twinkling clear blue eyes, inherited from his mother, Ethel née Hampson.
In 1951, aged just 17, Cec finished work on Shrove Tuesday and was on his way home to George Street.
The second Ball of the day came over the hedge in Peter Street as Cec was in the right place.
He immediately scooped up the ball and shot through to Compton where there was some opposition which he skilfully managed to avoid.
He carried the ball down Station Street, passed the police station and crossed the river at the back of Nestles and out onto the railway line.
When he arrived at the Mill there was no one there to witness him goaling the ball. It was accepted as being goaled 20 minutes after the throw up.
In the following two years, Cec missed playing since he was in
Hong Kong with the tank division of infantry for his National Service, and continued boxing.
On Shrove Tuesday 1955, when the ball was being hugged up Mayfield Road, towards Ashbourne, Cec shouted to his brother George
“Get over that hedge” – and he entered the hug.
Moments later, the ball came out and was thrown to George, who ran towards Clifton with it for the length of a field before Cec caught up with him.
At Clifton Mill there was much opposition so George and Cec got on to the island in the middle of the river.
Herbert Plumbly and George Peach shouted to the pair to “hand it over” and Cec told them to “come and get it”.
George Peach said: “That’s big talk from a little guy” (Cec was not very tall) and Cec replied, “Well Lumpy, you’ll be the first and last that I will give a thumping”.
They did not attempt to stop the Challinor brothers and George Challinor goaled the ball.
Cec’s second goal came in 1956, after a crowd followed the ball up Belper Road and Cec spotted three men hiding in a garden.
He waited behind a tree, watching them until they moved.
He then got possession of the ball and took it across the recreation ground up to King Street, Union Street, Belle Vue Road, and on to Clifton.
Again with no one at the Clifton goal, Cec fetched the signal man out of the signal box to witness him goaling it.
Cec would help others to get to the goal, as he did with Charles Coxon in 1964, (another of the Burton clan) and David Bates in 1972.
Also, Les Torr, whose goal was disallowed. When trying to help Mick Betteridge Senior, Cec hid the ball in Bertie Birches’ boot near to the Town Hall, and while Cec sat in Spencer’s Café across the Market Place, he told Mick where it was.
Mick did get to Clifton with the ball but drew with John Gadsby and lost the draw.
John Mansfield was Cec’s big mate. John was indeed another Shrovetide legend, goaling at Sturston in 1951, 1953, and again in 1959.
John was a wiry, tight curly haired farmer who resembled the 1940s film star, Joseph Cotton.
He used to leave the game for milking then return. Cec’s association with John culminated in 1965 when on Shrove Tuesday of that year, he made off with the ball and met up with John and his son Frank.
They went on to Sturston where Frank, aged just 13, goaled the ball. Frank, who looked like a young
Patrick Swayze, was to perish far too young, in a traffic accident.
John’s brother George goaled at Sturston in 1954 and in 1980 George’s sons Stephen and Charles ran all the way from Clifton to Sturston with the ball but were not allowed to goal it.
Cec’s record for the fastest goal was nearly beaten in 1976 when Cec’s son Steve Challinor took over from Mick Betteridge junior on a very quick break down Clifton road and was helped by the late Perry Weiss (who also died far too young in a road accident) to reach Clifton goal in just 17 minutes.
The runners thought they were unimpeded until out of a lorry came Squelch Mellor, Frank Lomas, Dougie Sowter, and John Mansfield. So, the ball was again in play.
John Mansfield helped Steve get the ball in up his jumper, and after a drawer between Mick Bettridge junior, John Grant junior.
Steve won the draw but the ball ended up being played in the river and Philip Tomlinson of the Shrovetide Committee, confirmed the ball had reached the goal at 17 minutes past two.
Cec’s route to goal wasn’t always direct, however, to say the least. Once occasion he took the ball straight through Woolworth’s where youngsters following him, filled their pockets with Pic’n’mix as they went.
On another occasion he carried the ball through Dr Madge’s house on the corner of St John Street.
The Hug was on Madge Hill and Cec and Mick Betteridge Senior got through a window with the ball, where a new surgery was being built, and it was in the gardens below Dr Madge’s house.
Cec and Mick knocked on the door and Mrs Madge opened it and asked them which way they played and let them through when they replied “Down’ards”.
My favourite story of my Uncle Cec was the time he hid the ball under the dough in the Green Dragon Bakery on St John Street.
Cec had managed to get the ball into the bakehouse and locked the door. The crowd was going mad outside.
When Mick Spencer found him, Cec suggested taking the ball out in a pram, but they decided on a box covered with dough. So Cec donned an apron and a cap and went out carrying the box on his head.
He managed to get past many people until Dr Roy Bennett (who had taught Cec at Secondary
Modern School) spotted him.
Roy knocked the box off Cec’s head thus freeing the ball. Cec later told me that whilst he was in the bakehouse, he could see my mum Beryl and hear her criticising him, saying, “It’s that Cec again, you can bet your life on it”.
One Shrovetide in the 70s the ball was lost on Park Road, Cec was leaning on a garden gate as I walked by with my cousin Alison (she of Picnic Basket) and Cec tipped us a wink and we waited and followed Cec back down the garden path. It was Dr Roy Bennett’s garden where underneath the hedge at the bottom end were crouched two men with the ball, one of whom was Lewis Godfrey.
The question arose of how to get the ball out without being seen. Cec asked Mrs Bennett (Roy’s first wife) if she had large shopping bag.
She duly obliged with one of those floppy nylon things with metal handles that were popular at the time. In went the ball and me and Alison obliged with our jumpers to cover it.
I set off with the bag back down the garden path to the gate to be met by Ian Bates and a large crowd.
They tried to grab the bag, and I hung on to the metal handles for dear life until Cec came to take over.
The ball was hugged, and nothing came of the venture, unfortunately.
A note here just to say that during these years when everyone knew everyone else who lived in Ashbourne, the game was played very differently and today there are rules which must be strictly adhered to about not taking the ball into private property, as we do not want to see the end of our glorious game.
Cec’s moment of crowning glory came on Shrove Tuesday 1978 when he was at Clifton, with Jimmy Clarke, to see and help his son Stephen into the goal, after Steve had run with the ball from near to Sturston down to Clifton.
Thankfully I was there to witness it and Steve was to pick up the gauntlet to play as big a role as his dad in the goals at Clifton in the years to come.
Remembering those who have played and are no longer with us, especially those who were taken too soon: Frank Mansfield, Perry Weiss and Jonathon Hemstock.