Scratching Shed Publishing

by Ally Shepherd

After a decade overseas, Ally Shepherd got stuck in the Northwest of England amid 2020’s pandemic chaos. She promptly became a born-again Northerner and, probably annoyingly, wanted to tell the world.

Documenting her journey to understand herself through the region in which she grew up, she explores its pressing questions, such as:  Is there still a North/South divide?  Was she descended from a Pendle witch?  Why does Liverpool have a slavery museum?  What’s with Scouse and Geordie accents?  Where are Northern women’s stories in TV, film, and literature?  And is it okay to eat chips, cheese and gravy? (Spoiler: The answer to the last question is ‘yes’).

Drawing on history, politics, pop culture, and folklore – as well as a childhood in Cheshire, family stories from Lancashire, and an education in Yorkshire – Back Up North explores the region’s diverse legacy of food, music, literature, dialect, social change and superstition. Give it a read, pet. Tha might learn summat.

The Highs and Lows of Northern Rugby in Victorian England

By Graham Morris

The Victorian era witnessed a dramatic growth in sport, none more than football, both Association and Rugby, the latter initially proving more popular, particularly in northern England.

Competitive rugby thrived in the north’s industrial communities and its leading clubs attempted to invigorate the code via the introduction of league and cup competitions. In part this was to combat the expanding reach of Association which introduced the F. A. Cup (in 1871-72), professionalism (1885) and the Football League (1888-89). But it was to no avail as Rugby Union’s internal politics, mostly related to accusations of professionalism, led to the historic 1895 split when many prominent clubs, particularly in Lancashire and Yorkshire, created the Northern Union, later renamed Rugby League.

Meanwhile, the Rugby Union abandoned its league competitions, seen as a route to professionalism. It would not be until the 1970s that official leagues were reintroduced, initially as ‘merit’ tables, its amateur ethos ending in 1995. Those competitive 19th century rugby union games have been virtually forgotten. But now, for the first time, the facts and figures from that period are published here in Rugby Victoriana.

Diligently researched by rugby historian Graham Morris, its scope covers the first ever representative game in 1870 – Yorkshire versus Lancashire – up to season 1900-01. Included are details of 622 representative matches, 90 league tables and 99 cup competitions, plus comment on contemporary rugby issues, providing the reader with a flavour of how the game was reported at that time.

Exploits of numerous leading northern rugby union teams of the period are documented, including Aspatria (Cumberland), Birkenhead Park (Cheshire), Hartlepool Rovers (Durham), Kendal Hornets (Westmorland) and Rockcliff (Northumberland). To that list we can add many of today’s rugby league clubs (Barrow, Huddersfield, Hull, Oldham, Swinton, Wigan, Wakefield Trinity, Warrington, etc.) whose first taste of competitive rugby came under the auspices of the Rugby Union during the Victorian era.

By Tom McCooey

Maggie has been an almost constant presence in Tom McCooey’s life.

An old MG Magnette, she was not much to look at and desperately in need of some love and attention. But to young Tom, sitting in the driver’s seat, smelling the brittle leather and gripping the huge steering wheel, what was sitting in his parents’ garage was more than just his dad’s old car.

He had never seen Maggie move or heard the engine roar into life, but the fact his dad, Will, wouldn’t let go added to the magic and mystique. Aged 14, Tom embarked on bringing the characterful car back to life with Will, but life threw diversions in front of Maggie’s journey back to the road. Tom’s new priorities – including Bon Jovi – ensured the car stayed put and Will’s dream on hold.

Told through the view from the passenger and driver’s seats of the cars throughout Tom’s life, this love affair with the road – and Maggie – has not always been smooth, as each small victory uncovered another seemingly insurmountable problem.

But with understanding, supportive and capable people around them, from family, mechanics and friends willing to push an old car up a hill, will the pieces of Tom and Maggie’s journeys gradually come together in a tribute Will would have been proud of?

For Tom, it was never about what the car was, or might be, worth but preserving something central to his family’s history, and a 36-year perseverance to finally see the job through.

This is a story of restoration in its widest sense. Not just of a classic car but a son paying homage to his father; it’s about relationships, dealing with grief and finding perspective and true value.

Ever wondered what happened to one-of-a-kind comedian Phil Cool?

Well now you can find out, as told by the man himself…

Young Mick, next door, played drums and bagpipes. Separately, of course, but it still annoyed our neighbours. He’d say stuff like: ‘I’m quitting my band. They’re a bunch of big-heads; not one of them is as talented as I am.’

Then one day, in the early 1970s, he said something sensible. ‘Phil, if you don’t start doing proper gigs now, you’ll be too old and it won’t happen.’ So I made a decision to get serious, leave my job and make the transition from wage to stage. By 1985, after playing every dive in the UK, I’d honed a few hours of decent stand-up and landed a series on BBC2. Game-changer. After that I landed another, which won a Royal Television Award for originality.

A third series, a special and two ITV series followed. In the late 1980s and early 1990s the phone didn’t stop ringing; my memorable face was everywhere. I had realised a dream. Then, as far as most viewers knew, I all but vanished. It’s true big theatres progressively grew smaller, but in fact I carried on walking the boards until my retirement, aged 65.

I am now 76. So here’s the book. I think you’ll like it. For a fair price, you get the head … the tale … the whole damn thing.

by John Beckett

The accepted view of the acquisition of the land that became Headingley Stadium – the preeminent sporting venue in England at the time – is that it was bought at an auction of the Cardigan Estates in 1888. Former history teacher and legal expert John Beckett examines the evidence and context of events to come up with an alternative explanation.