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paul mann

The Art Of The Hockle

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When I used to knock around Bedlington with a few mates from Westridge we knew how to amuse ourselves. Knowing how to hockle well was a talent worth cultivating. Harry Wilson was the undisputed master. He knew how to howk up a pellet of phlegm, shape it to give it just the right heft and aerodynamics and propel it over an amazingly long distance with impressive accuracy. Once lying around on the grass at the tennis courts behind Holymount Square I saw him, from a sitting position, his back against the high chain link fence around the tennis courts, unleash a spectacular hockle straight up into the air and backwards over the fence onto the tennis court. We knew how to have a good time.

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I was "... born NORTH of the Tyne and within 'hockle'in distance' of the river." Even those from further afield know the value of supporting the Toon and are welcomed into the fold, unlike the inbreds from that little redbrick village down the coast who crawl in ever decreasing numbers to that prefab built on top of the pit at the mouth of that polluted stream. Stop, stop, stop with this now Sym.

The Toon - a global entity!

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And you tell the kids these days and they just don't believe you!

Apologies to the four Yorkshire men and Monty Python.

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aye, the hockle..i remember a time when this lad who shall remain nameless rolled his phlem roond in his gob and sat on my chest and slowley let oot the hockle in a long controled drip in to my face..i can still smell and taste it...it was funny for him at the time but not so funny later when i did some wee into some dandylion and burdock and watched him drink it..it was an art though and the place was littered with juvinile hockle..thanks for that reminder of the past paul..im off to brush my teeth now..lol

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Howw,a thowt it was just us lot from the aad Whitley who were masters of the hockle!

Cum ti think of it,there was a lad caaled Bob Hutton,at Westridge,from Netherton,a lad who became one of me first new mates at Westridge,on first meeting him.

Noo HE had mastered the art of projecting clean hockles,[not coughed up ones...just spit!....],from the end of his toungue!

This was the most intriguing and unusual way of throwing a hockle...he could hit you from aboot 6 feet away....just by flicking his tongue oot in a peculiar manner.

He was a great mate to be wandering owa the fields and pit heaps,as we kids did in them days,[mid-50's].

I often wonder if some of these characters are on this site and not sayin...!

In the 1960's,I played in a pop group,and our singer was the funniest guy ever![sadly deceased at 46 yrs old,about 24 years ago..R.I.P. GEORDIE.]

Noo HE used ti caal them.."bone jokes",referring to a hockle as a "bone",cos when they are fired they spin in the air and take on the shape of a dog's bone.......[this is a revolting conversation,by the way,hoo did aa get draaan inti this?....!!!!!!]

One day,he related the story of a mate of his who came doon thi stairs from the club concert room,at Blyth,[Thi big club,which Blyth cooncil allowed ti be knocked doon ti mek a haaf-duzzen car park spaces.....for Morrison's....and AAM caalin Bedlington cooncil in an earlier post for the syem thing.....!]

Anywheh!,he's marra came doon the forst few steps,threw a bone up ti thi ceiling,and it stuck,then slowly started ti hang,like a proppa  bone...just

waiting for sum poor unsuspecting bugga ti cum doon thi staors and be baptised again!

Noo,as a responsible,sensible,supposedly respectable citizen,of average intelligence,this doesn't seem at all funny.................BUT IT SURE WAS HILARIOUS THI WAY POOR GEORDIE RELATED THE STORY TI US AT THE TIME![We were only aboot 18 yrs aad then..young and daft!]

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