His reports, always fair and never critical of individuals, are read and enjoyed by club members and non-members alike. As 'Scoop', he also writes about the club's characters, giving an alternative view of the week's events which could probably be replicated at many clubs throughout the country.

In an occasional series and following on from Fred Swarbrick's memories as the Vale's Fixture Secretary for 30 years, Stuart was asked to write 'a few words' about his time as Press Secretary. Being Stuart, somewhere along the line the word 'hundred' got inserted into the request. As winter draws on and the light fades faster than Scoop's memory, we publish his thoughts and hope you enjoy reading about his years of reporting on the Vale. We at the club hope his pen never runs out of ink or that his trusty spring bound reporter's notepad never gets too soggy as he would be so, so difficult to replace. And, honestly, Stuart, we are trying our hardest to get enough money together for a stand with a 'Reserved for Press' seat!

Read on and enjoy................

SCORE AND SCORERS ONLY PLEASE

“If a thing’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well.” Proverb

“Let’s start at the very beginning, a very good place to start,” warbled Julie Andrews in “The Sound of Music,” and the starting point for me was being elected as Press Secretary at the Vale of Lune’s AGM in July 1977.

Prior to being propelled into such high office I had played mainly for the Vikings with an occasional games for the A team, from January 1974. My involvement with the Vale began shortly after taking up a teaching post at Heysham High School in September 1973 when Peter Coopland, a winger of supersonic pace, took me under his wing and introduced me to the Vale, although any thoughts about playing were put on the back burner because I was in digs and travelled back home every Friday evening.

A property was eventually purchased in Bolton Le Sands and the family moved in for the New Year. I hung up my boots at the end of the 1976/77 season but all thoughts of pottering in the garden were quickly dispelled because when I returned from a school trip to Somerset to discover that I would be following a long line of distinguished members who had been given the mantle of Press Secretary.

And so began a fantastic odyssey that was part work but mainly pleasure, there are many similarities to be experienced that are not a million miles away from playing rugby, with some obvious exceptions.

There is still an air of tension pre match, followed by excitement, joy and sorrow as a game unfolds, new friendships being made and old ones renewed. Then there is the inevitable Sunday morning hangover, par for the course by the way, but although the body has taken a battering, blame it on the gin, thanks to former Secretary Ivor Clays who introduced me to Mother’s Ruin, there are fewer cuts or bruises around.

The pre match warm up has been replaced with a session at the bar and possibly some food, and by the time the players have completed their post match ablutions the ale is whirling around with all the rapidity of a belly dancer’s tassels. Pleasure and pain all rolled into one, again another parallel with those long off playing days.

In at the deep end

Although I had penned match reports when playing for the Vikings I had little idea of the role of Press Secretary, but thanks to a job description kindly given to me by former Press Secretary Jerry Yates, I soon realised the magnitude of what lay ahead. I did however, have the summer to digest the information, but the occasional glance at the “shopping list” reminded me that I was going to be fully occupied.

A typical week began on a Monday if there was a home game scheduled, by preparing the match day programme. Tuesday was selection night and with the team to hand Wednesday’s were spent contacting The Daily Telegraph, The Daily Mail, and The Daily Express, Lancashire Evening Post and the Lancaster Guardian, with changes plus any topics of interest.

Hopefully on a Thursday the programme notes could be sent to the printer but there could be last minute hold ups due mainly to the opposition not having finalised their team. Friday was usually a quiet day before the fireworks began.

A home game involved supplying running copy, more later, to the Lancashire Evening Post and if required a report on the game to the visitor’s local evening paper, back in the seventies we were still in the age of the “Pink ‘Un” and the “Green ‘Un.” After the game the Press Association were given the final score, plus a sport’s agency, then there was a report to be filed for The Sunday Express, plus any other Sunday papers which had placed an order.

On Sunday reports were written for The Visitor, for home games the Lancaster Guardian would usually send along their own staff which included at various times, Dave Guest and Steve Becker, now leading lights in the BBC, but I would supply copy for Vale’s away games.

Back now to “running copy.” I learnt this art at the knee of Peter Lovett-Horn (NUJ) and with the occasional variation it followed the same format. Pre kick off, 250 words plus teams were phoned through to the Lancashire Evening Post, plus another 250 before half time, the second half was usually a little bit less hectic, a couple of paragraphs and the final score.

Peter was a master at this art, rarely using notes and dictating his report to the copy taker with hardly a pause in the flow. How I envied his skills, because once he let me loose on phoning through a report I scribbled down the copy on carefully ruled grids that contained 250 squares not wishing to incur the wrath of a patient typist at the end of the phone, or an earful from the sport’s editor.

Phoning through copy to the visiting clubs evening sport’s edition required a different approach because it had to be angled towards their achievements, and the good citizens of Liverpool, Manchester, Birmingham or Newcastle on Tyne, were not necessarily interested in the exploits of a Vale player.

Dictating copy slanted towards the visitors, in the vast openness of the Vale’s stand, usually produced a string of ribald comments prefixed with, “Bloody hell! It’s not the same game I am watching.”

Update from the Press Box

Over the years some alterations have been made to Jerry’s aide-memoire. The evening sport’s editions have disappeared, and when the Vale’s status diminished as they fell through the league structures the nationals have taken less interest, concentrating on the goings on in the hard nosed professional world of rugby, but there has been an increase in rugby related magazines and specialist newspapers requiring, at various times, the goings on at the Vale.

In the intervening years local radio has made an impact. Radio Lancashire has always been a supporter of the Vale and strong links have been established with the sport’s department, while Bay Radio is an important conduit in promoting local sport. Before its demise, Red Rose Radio in Preston had a strong active commitment to rugby.

Some aspects of the media might have disappeared but the Vale’s web site has an insatiable appetite for news and reports. Overall the work load has changed little over the years, and to paraphrase the opening words of the crime series Dragnet, “Only the facts have been changed to protect the innocent.”

Tools of the trade

It is hard to imagine life today without the omnipresent mobile phone with all is applications, and a personal computer. The trusty Parker 51 and bottle of Quink Ink have long since been consigned to a dusty dark drawer, and the need to purchase an A4 pad every other week has become a thing of the past.

It took me a while to become converted to modern technology, and even while working at the “chalk face” I was quite dismissive of its potential and retired from the profession at the end 1999 in a state of complete indifference, but everything changed towards the end of 2004.

The epiphany happened when former first team player and President of the Vale from 2007 until 2010, Phil Sutcliffe, a man of many parts, dropped off one of his computers that was surplus to requirements with the words, “Here play around with this, and I bet you have bought a new one in six months.” He was about two months out!

With newspapers phasing out copy takers and to some extent copy typists, and moving swiftly towards emailed reports, it was time to enter the 21st century with a vengeance. In addition league and cup results had to be texted in. How much can the brain of a “silver surfer” take in? More than you think.

I still however use a trusty notebook on the touchline to record the ebb and flow of the game and any significant moments. Only recently the skipper wanted to know how I was able to remember so much detail of the game in the reports when I looked so tired and emotional in a clubhouse or a house of ill repute after the game, the answer was a notebook!

There are other important reference materials that I could not do without, although I am aware that the computer could also replace them. In no particular order they are an Oxford Dictionary, an Oxford Thesaurus and a Penguin Dictionary of Quotations.

Specific to the Vale I have a couple of drawers in a filing cabinet full of cuttings books and records of player’s appearances and points scored, plus the season’s playing record.

When I took on the role I found a lack of recorded information about appearances and individual records a little upsetting. True, some former players could remember highlights of their careers, but to me it seemed a shame that these were lost in the mists of time, or were viewed through rose tinted spectacles, so from game one I began to document the player’s statistics.

For example while I do not know how many appearances John Gill made for the first team but I know that his son Steve made 275. The same applies to Fixture Secretary Fred Swarbrick’s illustrious career, but his son Steve, clocked up 382. President David Bennetts, another former fearsome hooker and mega motivator, made x number of appearances, son Neil made 382.

All this information has proved to be invaluable in compiling numerous articles about the Vale for various publications.

County Championship and all that jazz

In the halcyon days of the RFU County Championship, Powder House Lane was one of Lancashire’s favourite and lucky venues, in the 1976/77 season I became involved for the first time when Lancashire were playing Cumbria and with Peter Lovett-Horn, who was an old hand at organising the press for these fixtures, everything went well. As the season progressed Lancashire’s winning momentum in the County Championship increased and rumours began to spread that the Vale of Lune were in the frame to host their semi final tie.

County fixtures were played on quite a regular basis and Vale were able to accommodate the journalists without too many serious problems and comfortably meet their needs. All this was about to change when Lancashire played Gloucestershire in a semi final of the championship in January 1977.

This time the press flooded in, as did the spectators, an estimated 10,000 being a conservative number. It is rare to visit a clubhouse not to be told by someone they were there; I think the number must have been closer to 15,000!

The sainted Nigel Starmer-Smith arrived with his “Rugby Special” team, huge trucks packed with electronic equipment and cherry pickers for the cameras. Extra telephones had to be installed to meet the demand; some members kindly allowed runners with copy to us the phones in their own homes.

The press bar, normally situated on the squash court’s balcony, was far too small to meet the needs of thirsty journalists so Bare Cricket Club kindly opened up their facilities, but well before kick off time the tab had reached £100 although the committee did not appear unduly concerned, when informed of the expanding till role, unlike Peter and yours truly.

Everything went smoothly, the journalists met their deadlines, and Lancashire won 19-15 and went onto clinch the title with a 17-6 victory against Middlesex at Blundellsands.

In February 1980 the Vale hosted the Thorn EMI County Championship final between Lancashire and guess who? Yes it was the old enemy yet again, Gloucestershire. So Peter and myself pulled out the folder from the previous meeting and set the wheels in motion.

This time the press numbers had increased as did the crowd on a day of torrential rain generating more “we were there” stories. The appearance in the morning of Keith Chegwin and “Swapperama,” only added to the occasion. Extra phones were plugged in and Peter, using his diplomatic skills, had a few attempts at getting the seating arrangements right in the press section of the stand because he discovered that some members of the press corps could not stand the sight of each other.

There were no such problems in the Thorn EMI media marquee where journalists were able to watch the game live, courtesy of a BBC feed. George Mackay, a highly respected rugby correspondent from The Daily Telegraph and no stranger to the Vale of Lune, had enjoyed the occasion in the tent, not only was he dry but he was waited on hand and foot. His closing paragraph reflected the ambience, “it was an experiment I would welcome the chance to repeat.”

Again it was another hectic day for the Press Secretary and his hard working Assistant, but in a game that was beamed throughout the country the following day on “Rugby Special” a smiling Billy Beaumont was seen holding the Thorn Trophy aloft surrounded by a mass of delirious soaked supporters after Lancashire’s 21-15 victory. A headline in The Visitor, “Winners all the way” captured a significant day in the club’s history.

It was back to normal the day after. A strong wind had dried out the playing surface and while the last cars was being towed off the surrounding fields the Vale defeated Morley 14-7, to record their fifth win of the season against a club from the prestigious Northern Merit Table.

Vale continued to host county championship games and not just at senor level, but the format began to change and there would be no repeat of the glory days, although there was another massive game when Lancashire played the Australians in December 1981. A series of heavy frosts had put the game in doubt but when a blanket of straw was removed the tourists agreed to play, putting Lancashire to the sword in a 22-6 victory.

“Every age has its pleasures” Nicola Boileau 1636-1711 (French Poet and Critic)

Although it is open to debate, I consider the seasons from 1976/77 through to the end of the 1990/91 season as a “Golden Age” of Vale rugby. During this fourteen year span I was fortunate to be able to chronicle the Vale’s exploits as they successfully broke down barriers and overcame some major disappointments as they and other clubs challenged the old order.

The hurdles and minefields of merit table rugby were negotiated by a tenacious Fred Swarbrick. The constant changing of the “rules and regulations” only made the Vale more determined to succeed, forcing the powers that be to sit up and take notice. The swell for a national league structure was gathering momentum throughout the land and soon the waves were crashing against the portals of HQ.

Eventually the cries from the barricades could no longer be ignored and in the 1986/87 the Vale not only played in the “C” Division but were crowned champions. The following season saw the introduction of the Courage Clubs Championship with the Vale finishing in fifth place in National League Division Three, a league they remained until being relegated at the end of the 1990/91 season.

It was during this period that the Vale played the leading clubs in the country, usually away, which meant I sat cheek by jowl with some of the leading rugby writers, it was indeed a privilege to be treated on equal terms by these household names.

It was same with the host clubs; they would go out of their way to provide access to a telephone because Radio Lancashire, in particular, required regular updates, sometimes a brief commentary and a considered piece after the final whistle. Not always easy after a heavy pre match session.

Long away trips, be it to Belfast, Scotland or to the Deep South, both East and West, turned into mini tours. They involved leaving the Vale late on a Friday afternoon and returning in the early hours of Sunday morning, but as always what happens on tour stays on tour. One thing that is guaranteed to fire up the grey sells is the mere mention of a night out in Exeter, an unforgettable sight in Wasps clubhouse, an evening in the Spiders Web. The memory bank is quickly kick started into life and, for those who were there, a conveyor belt of tales gushes forth.

I don’t want to suggest that the world came to an end when the Vale dropped out of the “black type” at the end of the 90/91 season, because there has been some scintillating rugby played. There is still the same intensity and commitment, the drama continues to unfold in an eighty minute span. Tears have been shed, but thankfully they were outweighed with smiles, laughter, shrieks of joy, thus making each game a tingling challenge that can be translated into words.

Still flows the Lune

Over the years I have tried to avoid falling into the trap of trivialising the game into a series of predictable clichés, there is a natural vibrancy and heartbeat to every game and I endeavour to craft a report that is different to the previous one, because no two games are the same. I can honestly say that I have never found putting together a report a boring chore, I think that when that day arrives the notebook will be dropped kicked into touch.

As the Vale’s web site developed a new avenue opened up. Former Commercial Manager John Adams, who had a creative mind, suggested that the reports appearing on the site might include some of the events that occurred before, during and after the game and some of the characters who were involved.

This challenge did not prove to be as difficult as I initially imagined because there were “characters” popping out of the wood work at every turn. Gradually their exploits began to take over “Scoop’s Report” as The Alies entered both stage left and right, filling the proscenium like a section from the Bayeux Tapestry or a Bruegel painting.

Who and what are the Alies? Think “Last of the Summer Wine,” “Dad’s Army,” and you are on the right track. As the chronicles have unfolded the nick names given to some of the individuals have replaced their christian or surnames. They have become very popular and it is not uncommon to have to point out the Major, Shagpile, Morse or the Fitter to an inquisitive and interested audience in clubhouses on the circuit.

During my spell as Press Secretary I have visited 165 grounds in England, Scotland, Northern Ireland, Spain, Canada and the Czech Republic, from Harlequins home at The Stoop to Woodshaw Park, Aspull, from The Recreation Ground at Bath to St Mary’s College Old Boys at Crosby.

Unlike times past, now a blank Word Document and flashing cursor awaits the first stroke on the keypad but once the opening sentence has danced across the screen the sluices open and a tumbling descriptive torrent is released, with only the occasional glance at the word count.

At the end of the day rugby is only a game, but very special for those who play it, watch it and write about. Does scribing beat playing? Of course not, but it comes a close second.