It’s Just Not Cricket!

As this magazine hits the shelves, a new class of youngsters will be taking their first steps in high school. Those with older siblings have no doubt spent the summer listening in trepidation to rumours of school traditions, older students, and, of course, a new set of teachers.

It was no different decades ago, in the 1950s, when Geoff Crambie was nervously awaiting his turn. Having failed the eleven-plus, he would be attending Primet Secondary School in Colne. Like most comprehensive schools at the time, corporal punishment was used for discipline. So, during the summer before his first day, he listened anxiously as the older children recounted stories of the teachers. There were tales of the woodwork teacher who once hit someone with a 2×4, flinging him 12 feet across the classroom, and another who looked like an army general and was known to hit the hardest. But it wasn’t either of those teachers who caught Geoff’s eye. It was one who used not a cane but a strap to hit unruly pupils with: Alan Wharton.

“He was also a magistrate while he was teaching and ran his own sports shop in Colne!”

If that name sounds familiar, you may be a cricket fan, as Alan played cricket for England. “He played for Colne CC at just 13, before breaking the amateur batting record at age 42 in 1965, a record held since 1911. He played for Lancashire for 14 years and Leicestershire for three years, scoring nearly 22,000 runs and taking 237 wickets.”

“I don’t know how he fitted everything in!” Geoff says. “He was also a magistrate while he was teaching and ran his own sports shop in Colne!”

His brother Colin Wharton was also a cricketer who taught at Geoff’s school. “Colin was more approachable,” Geoff explains. “But both were fierce and very intimidating.”

Alan first demonstrated his strictness when he caught Geoff and his friend David Bolton whistling along to one of the decade’s top tunes, “Singing the Blues,” during his English class. “He said, ‘I’ve heard that all day!’ and went berserk!” Geoff recalls. That was when Geoff realised the rumours were true: Alan used a strap to whack students who misbehaved in his lessons or even those who just gave him an annoying earworm.

Along with English, Alan, of course, taught sports. “I was never one for football,” Geoff explains. “I always ended up breaking my glasses, but I enjoyed cricket.”

Under Alan Wharton’s tuition, Geoff played cricket in class that first week and made an excellent catch. “He said, ‘Well done, Geoffrey,’” Geoff beams. “That was high praise because Alan didn’t give out compliments.” In his end-of-year report card, Alan even awarded Geoff a ‘good’ compared to his classmates’ ‘poor’ and ‘fair.’ “I was really proud. I looked up to Alan as he played for England against New Zealand not long before I started at school.”

Alan’s cricket prowess meant he even appeared on cigarette cards at the time. “I collected them. We used to go to Midland Working Men’s Club, which was just opposite the train station. They called it the rat pit as it was just a tiny hut. There was one chap who used to smoke loads of cigarettes and throw the packet in the bin outside, so we’d leg it over once he’d gone and steal the card.”

Bob Thompson, a friend of Geoff’s, found Alan Wharton’s card. On each one, they tended to give the cricketers a nickname, usually something complimentary – Frank Typhoon Tyson, Freddie Fiery Truman. On Alan’s, they had nicknamed him ‘Wharton Face.’

“Then Bob said, ‘There are some good things on the back, Mr. Wharton.’ He flipped it over and swore before ripping it in half!”

“We ran up to his sports shop, and Bob showed him the card. He mustn’t have seen it before as he looked at the front of the card and said, ‘They’ve got me at a bad angle there!’ Then Bob said, ‘There are some good things on the back, Mr. Wharton.’ He flipped it over and swore before ripping it in half!”

Unfortunately for Bob, who was now down a card in his collection, the card was withdrawn shortly after, probably due to complaints from Alan. “They never issued another one,” Geoff explains.

That wasn’t the only time Alan lost his temper; another incident occurred one lunchtime in the school canteen. Geoff and his friends were eating their lunch while an older boy, Bob Harrison, regaled the youngsters with his cricket prowess. Apparently, he had scored a century. Alan Wharton was surveying the lunch hall on a 10-foot stage, ensuring everyone was eating their lunch without messing around.

“Alan Wharton looks down and he says, ‘Harrison, quiet, too much noise.’ He just carried on. So Mr. Wharton comes to the edge of the stage again, and he says, ‘Harrison, be quiet; I’m warning you now, six of the best.’ Bob just carried on! I have never seen anything like it. Alan Wharton, who was 10 feet up, leaps off the stage, landing on Bob and punching him! He still got six of the best after Wharton had finished pummeling him, but not from Wharton, who had broken his wrist in the fight!”

Despite Wharton’s unconventional (or perhaps conventional for the time) methods of discipline, Geoff remembers Wharton as a good teacher and an excellent cricketer and still treasures the ‘good’ Alan Wharton wrote in his sports report.

Take another stroll down memory lane with resident historian Geoff Crambie as he recalls his time in the once bustling area of waterside in Colne here. 

NorthernLife Sep/Oct/Nov 23

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