An Interview with Walter Goodyear part 5

Who were the characters of that side of the 1930s?

(Laughs) Oh, they all were. There's some stories that you couldn't possibly print I'm afraid. There was one player who was released by Mr Taylor because of a supposed dalliance with the daughter of a senior club official. Nothing happened, they only dated, but Mr Taylor disapproved and the player had to go. He was even taken off team pictures of the period...

It has never been mentioned before, but everyone knew what had happened and it was a waste, because the bloke could play and might have been a fine cricketer for many seasons.

But Denis Smith and Stan Worthington were my favourites. We were firm friends for the rest of their days. As groundsman, you don't really get all that close to many people, but they were wonderful men.

Funnily enough, my wife knew all the wives very well because she cleaned the ladies toilets at the ground. We were invited to social events, but that was generally the only time that I had close dealings with the players, with a few exceptions.

In 1939 war broke out. What did that mean for you?

I was in the army for six full years, from 1940 to 1946. I was N/T Sergeant in the 14 Sherwood Foresters and served in North Africa as part of the Desert Rats, as well as fighting at Anzio, among many others.

It was terrible and I lost a lot of friends. I made a lot too, though and we worked together, helped each other and somehow I got through it. Six long years. A lot of good people didn't make it though.

What was the condition of the grounds in war time. What happened to them?

I'll tell you. I was in Stan Worthington's house at Mickleover, when war was declared on the Sunday at twelve o'clock - with Alf Pope, as it happened. When I got to the ground on the Monday morning, Will Taylor asked me to go to his office and said I was no longer required. I was effectively chopped off at the knees and they made a chap named Jackie Mays in charge of the ground. They could get him to do the job cheaper, you see.

I did all I could do and went and got a job with the parks department under Mr Wells at Alvaston Park Lake until I was conscripted in 1940.

And what happened after the war – how did you come back?

I came back on a month's leave in August 1946. At the camp I was at, there were five other cricket groundsmen and they were all brought home in the June of that year to return to their former duties.

There was a match on at Derby in the August, a three-day game against Gloucestershire and I was asked to go and see Will Taylor. I asked him why he hadn't applied to have me brought home in the June with the others and he was very evasive.

He asked me what I thought of the wicket and I told him that the game wouldn't last three days as it was sub-standard (it didn't last two). The condition of that wicket, the square and the ground as a whole was shocking.

I was asked to come back and I'd to choose between the cricket club and an opportunity at the parks department on a similar wage. I opted for the cricket club, but to be honest have wondered many times over the years whether I made the right decision.

The late 1940's saw a fresh crop of players emerge, spearheaded by the legendary Les Jackson and Cliff Gladwin. Can you tell me about them?

Cliff was from Doe Lea, near Chesterfield and travelled through to games or to the ground with his very good friend Eric Marsh. He was a lovely man Cliff, but he could get annoyed if people dropped catches off him and woe betide them if they misfielded!

He was a very fine and accurate bowler, but after he retired from playing he went to Lilleshall to get his cricket coaching badge. He failed and it finished his interest in cricket, especially when people who weren't in the same league as a player managed to pass.

He took to growing chrysanthemums and won a lot of prizes in doing so, while he also ran a sports shop in Chesterfield for a few years. The last time that I saw him, he came to me with an engine for a Qualcast lawnmower and asked if I had any contacts at the company who might help to get it repaired.

I knew the managing director there very well and he took one look at it and chucked it in a skip! Then he gave me a brand new one to give to Cliff.

He passed away soon afterwards, far too early, really.

Les came along for his trial at the County Ground and Harry Elliott asked him to bowl against the skipper, Eddie Gothard. He'd already made it known to people that he didn't rate Les at all and played a few balls fairly easily – and Eddie wasn't a great bat.

Harry Elliott rated Les and told him he wasn't bowling quick enough. So Les started to bend his back and rattled Eddie's stumps a few times and bruised him a few times more. That was really the start of it all for him.

When he first started he used to have to get up at 5.30am and get a bus to Chesterfield from Whitwell. Then he'd get a train to Derby and then another bus to the ground. He'd have his breakfast in the end room of the pavilion and did this until he had enough money to afford a car.

He made his debut for Derbyshire at Abbeydale Park in Sheffield against Kent in 1947 – that was one of our grounds then. He turned up with his boots and cricket clothes in a carrier bag. He didn't do anything special but he took a wicket

The following year it all started for Les and he became the leader of the attack for the next fifteen years. He was a lovely man and I never had a cross word with him.

One day he came off at the end of play and took off a cricket boot, then tossed it to me. It was full of blood.

“I'd a nail come through the sole this morning Wal...can you get it sorted for me?”

He'd bowled nearly all day with a nail sticking in his foot! Can you imagine them doing that today? I borrowed someone's bicycle and took it to a cobbler on East Street. He was just closing up, but when I told him I'd got Les Jackson's boot for repair, he opened up again and sorted it, so I could take it back to him for the next day's play.

It wasn't just about sorting the ground, you see!

To be continued - photos show Walter's son, David, atop the mower at a bleak County Ground and pages from his service book in the war.