Remembering Crowtree Leisure Centre, the lost Sunderland asset that wasn't just about sport

Through the Echo's social media platforms, readers often express the loss they still feel over a building which was never beautiful and has been demolished for over a decade.

Those who can't remember Crowtree Leisure Centre (1977-2011), may struggle when looking at old pictures to see why the place was so loved and revered around the North East.

But walking into "The Leis" (pronounced as in "pleasure") for the first time back in the day, when the queues to enter could be enormous, was like stepping into a space ship. It was also huge.

It accommodated just about every indoor sport: tennis, badminton, crown green bowls, squash, pool, snooker, football, gymnastics, rock climbing, gymnastics, trampolining, weightlifting, judo, basketball, boxing, volleyball...

Further recreation was offered outside on the footbridge crossing Crowtree Road; where local yahoos could entertain themselves by tipping Villa shandy upon the heads of innocent pedestrians below.

But for young people of a certain disposition, Crowtree's two main attractions were the swimming pool and the ice rink - and the proclivity to attend either usually had little to do with either swimming or skating.

For logistical reasons, the shell of the ice rink is now the only undemolished section of the leisure centre. Between it and the site of the pool is the paved remnant of the pedestrian tunnel which intersected them.

If passers-by were fortunate enough, they might see someone attempting to execute an ambitious manoeuvre in the diving pool.

If they were more fortunate still, they might see someone failing miserably to execute an ambitious manoeuvre in the diving pool and performing an agonising, yet undeniably amusing belly-flop (© P Mordaunt).

The 'Splash-in' and the horrendous High Street Baths

The main pool was an irregular shape, had a seemingly mile-long hydro-slide and an overused wave machine.

The water was usually warm. This was welcome news for those who had been forced by teachers to use the horrendous High Street Baths. You wouldn't put an obnoxious penguin in there these days, so please appreciate the discomfort of schoolchildren who were shoved into sub-zero water in their pyjamas to rescue a rubber brick there.

High Street Baths were never quite considered Dickensian; but only because the place lacked the required modernity to merit the description.

Anyway, in Crowtree the walls around the pool were adorned with the obligatory poster citing activities which were puritanically banned in British public pools: running, smoking, ducking, bombing, shouting, acrobatics or gymnastics and, of course, petting (although the definition of petting remains legally indistinct even today).

Those posters were futile. Every prohibition mentioned was routinely flouted; even smoking. However, one pursuit not proscribed by the authorities was often impossible to achieve in the pool. Swimming.

This was due to the sheer volume of people ambling about in there and much of the pool being too shallow. Yet this was not a problem for the many who attended for reasons other than swimming.

The best example of this was the Friday night "Splash-in", essentially a disco in the pool for teenagers.

The Saratoga Disco would be set up pool-side by a highly respected DJ of the day, cheerfully undeterred by the inherent danger of siting a pile of electrical equipment adjacent to an expanse of water.

The youngsters loved it. They could cheerfully make playful attempts to drown one another to the accompaniment of Nik Kershaw.

Being as this was for the teenage girls and boys of the time, many must have been pleased that no parents ever frequented the Splash-in; which weekly created a sort of hormone soup.

Posing at the ice rink

The Friday alternative to the Splash-in was next door in the ice rink, where only poseurs in their own boots and who could skate backwards actually took to the ice - again to the accompaniment of Nik Kershaw.

Others simply spectated; but still posed. Not necessarily because they couldn't skate, but because to do so would involve hiring a pair of sweaty, blue plastic wellies with blades attached; guaranteed to remove at least one layer of skin from either side of the ankle, as well entire reserves of street cred.

Compared to now

Swimming facilities in Sunderland today are far better than those provided by Crowtree Leisure Centre and are dotted across the city; but only if you actually want to swim and not merely clart about.

Sadly, proper ice rinks are much more scarce. The nearest proper one is in Whitley Bay; and it opened in 1955.

All the other sports are still on offer in Sunderland, but not all under the same roof.

We'll end it here. All this reminiscing has probably put you in the mood for a Slush Puppy.