NOT many rugby players can say they have graced the same "stage" as hard-boozing legendary Irish actor Richard Harris. But Barry Stickney, 71, landlord of The Phoenix in York's George Street can, and does when tackled properly.

The 72-year-old Limerick-born actor succumbed to Hodgkin's Disease a week last Friday in a London hospital after a hell-raising career featuring starring roles in movies such as Camelot, The Long The Short And The Tall, The Guns Of Navarone, This Sporting Life and, lately, as Prof Dumbledore in Harry Potter And The Philosopher's Stone.

What's all this to do with Barry Stickney, you ask?

Well, the prince of pint-pullers appeared with Harris in This Sporting Life, the gritty 1963 film adaptation of David Storey's novel of the same name about a rugby union "convert" to the league code.

It was set in and around Barry's home town of Wakefield.

He was 32 back then, he played centre for Eastmoor and got "extra" time in This Sporting Life playing against the famous Harris, who at first was regarded as a cissy by the real players.

"'E were a good lad and it were a good film," says Barry in his dry, West Yorkshire twang. Coming from him, this is akin to a knighthood!

"And he stood more than his round," recalls the dry-as-bone publican, licking his chops wistfully. "We used to walk to the pub in Wakefield after filming action scenes and he used to pop round in a chauffeur-driven Rolls Royce.

"Mind you, no one could get anywhere near him with a crunching tackle. His stand-in took all the knocks and Harris just looked the part.

"E, but he couldn't half sup... and pay. I hope he's on the bell next time I see him!"

Barry is now immortalised on a re-issue of David Storey's novel, pictured above - he is the beefy bruiser pictured left, back and inset, as he is now.

Reading our report of the couple making love on the bar walls reminded me of a time in the early Seventies when young railway office lads in Hudson House put up a sign on the Queen Street section of the walls informing visitors that if they looked over the ramparts they could see the spot where boiling oil had been poured on invaders.

These young bloods weren't being public spirited.

Their office overlooked the walls and this was the height of mini skirt mania. So when the young lasses leaned over... that's enough of that! Ed

Well, it wasn't long before someone poured cold water on the boiling oil prank and the sign was removed

RICHARD Stansfield, photographer at the York Castle Museum, had his home computer in for repair at PC World at Monk's Cross last week. When one of their technicians, Steve Waters, phoned Richard at the museum to tell him it was ready for collection he was put on to Josie Sheppard, the museum's Curator of Costume, who shares a phone line with Richard.

"Good afternoon, it's PC World here," said Steve "I wonder if I could speak to Mr Stansfield?"

"Sorry," replied Josie, "I didn't quite catch the name. You're police constable who?"

Our cartoonist, Wolf, was in his local, chatting to a mate of his from Ireland. The mate, who must remain nameless, was recounting how he had just returned from his cousin Harry's funeral in Sligo, southern Ireland.

Harry had a twin brother, Brendan and throughout their lives the two had constantly played practical jokes on each other.

Brendan, not wanting this tradition to go unnoticed, had secreted a mobile phone in his dead brother's pocket while paying his last respects at the undertakers.

Sure enough, during the funeral Brendan furtively dialled the number and the muffled ring-tones of The Great Escape were heard from inside the coffin.

Most of the mourners guessed immediately what was going on, because they had known the brothers for years, and stifled their sniggers.

As Brendan was leaving the church, and by this time definitely pushing his luck, he spoke to the priest who had officiated at the service.

"Father" she said: "What could possibly be worse than a mobile phone going off in a coffin during a funeral?"

The priest, looking knowingly at Brendan, replied: "Someone answering it, my son!"

Late flash: Prestige Security Ltd of York is donating the services of two doormen to keep the hordes of horny women in check when the eight First Monty male strippers let it all hang out at the Tramways Club, Mill Street, on November 20 and 27 to raise cash for an information centre at the children's unit of York District Hospital.

Updated: 09:54 Saturday, November 02, 2002