Jim Taylor

So, farewell Cheeky Charlies

So, farewell Cheeky Charlies. As the demolition men move in with their wrecking balls to tear down the Magnet, another part of our town’s modern-day history bites the dust. For generations of parents of tiny tots, toddlers and young tearaways, the soft play area was a mustgo-to Mecca. A House of Fun, whatever the weather, where all their pent-up energy could be burned-off. Cheeky Charlies was the one place where, if you were stuck in a tight spot, you could do a U-turn and still have a soft landing in a bed of balls. (But enough of the politics for this week). From memory, there were two schools of parenting when it came to a visit. Mums, would sensibly sit at the side and watch as they chatted to friends, sipped a cup of tea and nibbled a biscuit. Dads, on the other hand, were overcome with a ridiculous urge to climb after their kids in tiny tunnels, down plastic chutes and along metal-grilled, over-head walkways. Or was that just me? It all seemed innocent fun back then, but, perhaps, it was a practice run for later in life when you had to take your teenagers on highflying zip-wires and up proper climbing frames at places like Go Ape. There, you quickly learned not to look down, or act like you were scared to death… especially if you were supposed to be the mature adult in charge of your daughters and their pals! But even at Cheeky Charlies it was easy to end up with the odd bump or bruise – more often because you had forgotten to duck to get through a gap, best suited for a five-year-old. Despite all the happy memories, to tell the truth, it wasn’t always fun and games in the ball pool or working your way round the slides and obstacles. You could certainly “Give Yourself A Shiny” – as they used to say on a CBeebies programme we repeatedly watched – if you could avoid tears and tantrums. Not to mention incidents with other kids who didn’t want to play or, more importantly, didn’t want to share the balls being thrown around. Then there was always the child who got stuck in one of the tubes, panicked, had a mini-meltdown, and needed to be rescued by an embarrassed parent and soothed with a Jammy Dodger. Many a mini birthday party there ended with a plate of chips, a sickly soft drink and mums looking lovingly at their little ones, but while secretly thinking: “You’ll need a really good bath when you get home!”

I’m sure the new tower blocks and 434 homes – which are destined to replace the old leisure centre and ten-pin bowling site – are just what we need. And, hopefully, they won’t look as ugly as the new flats by the Town Hall. But, whatever happens, they won’t wipe out those magical moments of joy and wonder as our little ones laughed and shrieked and ran around without a care in the world down at Cheeky Charlies.