Greenough Street

I didn't think much of Bu Sansides poetry above did you? Can none of you Greenough Streeters come up with something better?

When I was a young lad we used to visit a bakery somewhere near the bottom of Greenough St in the chool dinner time. You could buy these minature freshly baked loafs for a penny. And you could meet the girls from the Convent and the High Schools. Great days.

john the name of the pub that johny stopford kept was the regent hotel on the corner of oxford st.i used to sup there when john was there.sadly he died young. bill rayner ex mount st.

i watched Bill Bretherton play many times in the fifties when Wigan could field an A team with thirteen internationals never mind a first team.I also heard he could knock nails in with his bare fist.He definately was as hard as nails.

This is about rugby really but Central Park was nearly in Greenough Street. Do any of you readers remember Bill Bretherton. I was arguing with an owd Wiganer who like most has played a bit of rugby. I reckon that Bill Bretherton could hammer six inch nails in timber with only his bare fist. My pal would have none of it. Please anyone who knows - lets have your view.

I recall as a young lad going down Greenough St from Scholes to the rugby ground.We got off the bus from Abram at Scholes crossing near the Bluebell and walked towards G.St. There used to be a timber yard in Greenough St....was it Laycocks?...I think they moved to Ince. What was the name of the pub Johnny Stopford had in G.Street.Good days....good memories....the town has changed,not for the better....a pub or bar every ten yards.

The only time I remember Greenough as a kid was when my Mam took us to Wigan Fair walking from Ince. Seems like a lot of good characters there. Sometime makes me wish I'd been brought up in Greenough. Cliff H. seems a good bloke – good sense of humour. Bet you can have a good laugh with him.

I recall the old days. Those cold days when darling little Bernard stood on the bridge over the river Douglas collecting for the poor children of St Marys. The snowflakes drifting down in the cold dark evening. I worried for little Bernard then because he looked so neglected. But a gentleman from Calderbanks reassured me. Love, he said, young Bernard is made of stern stuff and is loved by a good family. He does his work out of pure love for humanity. I was very attractive those days and kissed little Bernard on the cheek. I could almost feel the warmth flow into his little rosy cheeks. Bless him. Bless him for he's a good lad.

As ive always known Greenough Streeters are a friendly bunch but we are all Wiganers at heart.When people ask me in this part of the world what you lot are like i tell them.Thad best go avisiting Wigan .For the welcome they d give you s a big un.Their honest and straight and its people are great.So thad best go avisiting Wigan.

Coronation St. Who needs it when we've got Wigan Worlds Greenough St. Kath B. our own Elsie Tanner. Cliff Higham Greenough St's answer to Len Fairclough. We've got two street poets. B. Unsworth and Betty Bu. What next? Will B. Unsworth the bard of Scholes confound us with his play: the tragedy: McFarlane - a tale of bloody deeds. Will Bernie or even Ernie Dowdall reveal himself as Peregrine Peabdy the secret Hampstead master piece hoarder. Don't miss the next episode. Greenough Steet Unplugged!

I remember the Harp. There was a picture of a holy lady baring her breast on the wall tiles in the doorway. We little lads used to sneak in for a look.

There were other pubs further on.But enough was enough his legs had gone.Frank struggled home which was in Platt Lane .A most enjoyable day .He would do it again. Hope that revives a few happy memories.

But he didnt care he sti.Ill felt so strong. He intended to sup until the last gong.But in the Black Swan he went on gills. It entered his mind it was better than pills.Into the White Swan he strode proud and tall.He was greeted from more friends with a loud call.A couple more then onto the Harp.His visions blurring he didnt feel as sharp.But on he went.The Windmill next on his list.Hed forgotten the Con. Club.His mind now a mist.Frank now weaved his way to the George and Dragon.He was beginning to wish hed stayed in the wagon.The Balcarris was now his last port of call.He knew any further he was sure to fall.

The old Kings Arms next on the way up.Then over to the Fleece for another good sup.On and on Frank went on his way.He was quite happy he knew he could pay.The Weavers Arms and the Angel as well.All full of people singing like hell.Into the Shamrock and then the Rose and Crown.The beer was now causing Frank to frown.When in the Crown Sceptre Frank began to think that drinking pints would bring him to the brink.

Does this little poem Ring any Bells for old Greenough Streeters. A local lad thought what to do.A born scholes lad by the name of Frank.He liked his beer and enjoyed a prank.A 22 year old miner who liked some fun.With a tenner in his pocket he had won.With so much money Frank felt good.He decided to drink as much as he could.His first port of call was the Shovel and Broom.The pub was crammed and in full bloom.The rejoicing inside was so good to hear that Frank joined in while drinking his beer.Ten minutes later up Scholes he went.He was eager to get some more money spent.His next call of course was the old Blue Bell.This pub was also full and doing well.Another pint gone and Franks on his way.He wanted this to be an enjoyable day.

i remember walter coran from bolton st ince i used to live at 32 bolton st

Saw Sam Bass first time for ages at Tescos Petrol Station. Hey Mona (thats a song in it) did you say he looked like Michael Caine or did you mean Cynthia Payne.

They were right Yatesy.Ronnie Leadbetter went To whelley school same time as me.Red haired lad i remember.I did go to st cats before whelley.Moved to greeny when i was 9 years old but kept in touch with my mates from st cats.Thats why i played footie for them instead of st georges.My dad played for st georges so that evens things up.

Behave Mona I dont kiss blokes but if I see him again I,ll tell him you been askin about him and that she still luvs ya.

Ne then Unzie. Wouldn't bother with Red Sales don't think he's the type to change his mind by reasoned arguement. (No offence Red lad - like your rants - don't always disagree). Been asking around owd Greenough Streeters, see if anyone knows you. Rumour has it you knew Ronnie Leadbetter but same source said that you - Unzie went to St Georges. Must be wrong. Yeah your owder than me - probably more Cliff H's age.

Sam Bass Lives. Well spotted H. Next time you see him, give him a kiss from me. Tell Sam I still remember him.

Spotted 1800 hrs Sat buying bread at Tesco, Wigan the inimitable SAM BASS,

St Cats A bit before your time i suspect red sales.

I knew Sam Bass. Used to clean a club called Reflections in Golborne many years ago. Recognised him from description above. I was a glass snatcher there. Sam told me he used to play in a band. He worked for the council at night looking after computers. daytime he cleaned the club.

sent catherines. wots all thar about. B. rubbish. soccer soccer thats nor a game. puffs stuff. rugby league. mans game. wots hapning to rugby. No brocken nozes. No colliflower ears. big girls playin these days. see em off in 5 mins in my day. porr em off feeld.

Thanks for that Deggs. I'll look up Sam when I'm next in town. Could do with a new fire place. Maybe Sam will give me a discount - for old times sake.

Yes mona that sounds like Sam.We were best mates til we were about our early 20's(oh so long ago) then people go their different ways.

Peregrine Peabody regarding your article above. I am a collector and have a Tommy Steele. Know the canvas you want, the one with the eye, but will require finders fee.

Everybody talks about St Georges and St Marys kids in Greenough street but some of us went to St Johns. I remember David Vose, David Pyke, John Davis, Les Hurst and Tony Worswick.

Jack Dean our old headmaster at Whelley would be proud of him.Who says secondary moderns dont turn winners out.

Brian. I think Roy's back selling caravans now on the Bradley Hall estate in Standish. Last time I saw him he stopped his van in the maiddle of scholes and shouted to me whilst the traffic was jammed for a about a quarter of a mile. He doesn't change. I think he now lives in Adlington.

Hello Yatesy.The last time i saw Roy he had the Bellingham.Iwas looking for somewhere to hold my daughters wedding reception but there was not enough room there.He had just added Kilhey Court to his portfolio and was going to have it renovated .He took me round to have a look at it.It was like going back in time to a bygone age.Unfortunately it couldnt be ready in time for our reception.The boy dun well.

Mad the right way though Brian. He's living in clover now. You will need to get round to the next St Georges reunion as a special guest when Bluemoon gets round to organising it.

Spot on .I was at whelley the same time as Roy.As far as i remember he never played any ball games but was as mad as a brush.

Well Unzie I reckon you woulod be playing footy with the likes of Roy Thomas. I bet Roy sold you the balls.

I did play for St Georges against St Cats, I was only 10, and I did watch an sometimes join in the lads playin on the old Tennis courts, they were older than me, way older. I remember we started up a football team in the late sixtys,called ourself Scholes Celtic,just played some friendlies an Bob Occleshaw was our striker, he was good,a very good player, sniff a goal from anywhere.

Not with an imagination like his he didnt.

Pat did you knowck about Marsh Green when you were a youngster.

No Brian. I think your more Cliff Highams age than mine. Hoe probably played "soccer" against you.

Jen! behave, cheeky monkey,dunno about the others but I,m not dodgin boxes just the tax man, I drink cocoa I snort it, never in bed before 2am, my own that is, ahem! if I,m not doin my 10 mile run by 6am I,m ill.most afternoons I practice free fall parachuting, when the weathers real bad , stormy, I like to do a bt of fishing in my row boat in the Irish Sea, most weekends are taken up hang gliding, Then I wake up.put slippers on an fix a drink of ovaltine. behave.

iff thats between 1942 and 1948 the answers yes.

Kath Byrne what hapened to your Rose Queen pics. Thought you were putting them on this site. Lets have em. Want to see your birds nest hat.

Most contributors are remembering people from St Georges but when I knocked around Greenough Street it was the St Mary's lads I remember. John Wood, Laurie Lowe, Jim Seddon, Bill Ashurst, Little Bernard Dowdall, Chris Glass, John Riley, Dennis Smith, Joe Fitzsimmons. Those were the days. Appreciate any comments on what happened to these lads.

So Unzy old boy were you at St Catherines during the era of the Heaton sisters or the Sherington twins.

I once drank 12 pints of Joe Mac Punch at the Paradise Club and lived to tell the tale.

Hi Degs. I think I know your friend Sam Bass. Didn't he have red hair and horned rimmed glasses. Looked a bit like the young Michael Caine. He had an eye for the ladies. He used to go to the White Crow in Chorley Road many years ago when they had bands playing. I danced with him.

Was looking at the St Georges confirmation photo placed on this site by Kath B and wondering what those people look like now. I suppose they are all warming their tootsies in slippers and tucking in early with a bed time cocoa. Pity they can't all get back together for a one of shoot. I suppose they are all too busy dodging boxes.

My parents house at 35 Greenough St was ploughed into by a coach whilst they were on honeymoon, I was born and lived at that address until I was around 8 yrs old, we lived next door to the betting shop and near the Regent Pub, as kids we used to get beer crates from the back of the pub to allow us to watch through the window when my dads band played there. I loved spending time with Hilda at Lewis's snack bar, the milkshakes were amazing

Me and the other snipes used to have a great time in Greenough Street. We would play Cocky Rusty and British Bulldog in the side streets. There were no cars parked those days. Girls played 2 ball or 3 ball on the walls or skipped with the rope. We would chuck a couple of ganzies down as the try line and play tick rugby. Summer would be orchading usually up Wigan Lane in the posh houses gardens. In winter we'd make slides on the ice down Primrose Hill. When we were really fed up we would ring doorbells and run off. Not many had doorbells. It was your fault for trying to be posh.

Hello Yatsey.So Joe Mac Punch was to blame and we thought you were just crap footballers.