If walls could talk at Oakwell, they'd whisper one name more than most — and no, it’s not your dad’s favourite winger. It’s Ernie Hine. A lad from Smithies who didn’t just make the net bulge — he made it his signature. He wasn’t just prolific — he was relentless. A striker with a rifle for a right foot, a football brain sharper than a butcher’s knife, and the kind of work rate you’d normally associate with blokes down the pit, not up front on a Saturday.
Born on April 9th, 1901, Hine came into a world of coal dust, clogs, and cobbled streets. But football offered a different kind of graft — the kind that could lift a working-class lad to local legend. And in 1921, Barnsley found themselves with a gem on their hands.
The First Stint: Where Legends Begin
When Ernie Hine signed for Barnsley in 1921, there weren’t ticker-tape parades or Twitter welcome videos — just the quiet confidence of a club who knew they had a raw talent in their ranks. His debut came in an FA Cup replay against Norwich City, and right from the off, he made it count — goal on debut. Of course he did.
That goal wasn’t a fluke. It was the first in a flood. By the end of his first full season, 1921–22, Hine had helped fire Barnsley to a third-place finish in the Second Division — tantalisingly close to promotion. In those days, that was practically the equivalent of winning the Champions League for a club like ours.
Then came the 1922–23 season — Ernie’s true coming out party. He bagged 25 goals in 45 appearances, a number that still looks impressive today, let alone a hundred years ago when boots weighed more than the match ball and defenders didn’t so much tackle as assault. He wasn’t just prolific — he was consistent, week in, week out. Whether it was a scrappy toe-poke from six yards or a thirty-yarder lashed in with no backlift, Ernie had a knack. He found space in the box like your nan finds change in the sofa — somehow, always.
And let’s not forget who he partnered up top — Russell Wainscoat, another Barnsley great. Together, they terrorised the Second Division. It wasn’t so much a strike partnership as a double-act of destruction. Defenders weren’t just outplayed, they were haunted. The pair worked together like they shared the same footballing brain — Ernie often the sharper, ghosting into space while Wainscoat occupied defenders like a decoy on a battlefield.
Hine wasn’t just a poacher either. He was versatile across the front line, played with both feet, and had a shot on him described in the press of the day as “like a cannonade.” One unfortunate keeper reportedly needed dental work after trying to block one of his piledrivers — whether that's apocryphal or not, the legend sticks.
He wasn’t flashy. He wasn’t vocal. But give him half a yard and the ball was gone — in the net, and usually accompanied by the groans of opposition fans and the cheers of the Ponty End faithful.
Season after season, Hine delivered. From 1921 through to 1926, he was the talisman. His numbers piled up, his reputation grew, and his name became synonymous with Saturday afternoon magic at Oakwell. He didn’t just play for Barnsley — he embodied what the club stood for: hard graft, loyalty, and turning nowt into something.
The Painful Exit: Cash Talks
Of course, when you’ve got something special, the wolves come sniffing. And in January 1926, Leicester City came sniffing with a cheque — £3,000, a serious sum for the time. Enough to make even the staunchest club accountant raise an eyebrow. That kind of cash could fund a new stand or several years' wages. Barnsley, as ever, needed the money.
It must’ve been gutting to watch him go. One minute he’s leathering balls into the roof of the net in front of the Brewery Stand, the next he’s in a Foxes shirt scoring twice on his First Division debut. Classic Ernie.
But you don’t forget a player like that. And Barnsley fans didn’t. Not then. Not ever.
The Return: Oakwell’s Favourite Son Comes Home
Fast forward to 1934. After successful spells at Leicester, Huddersfield Town and even Manchester United (who could barely believe their luck), Ernie Hine returned to Oakwell. The prodigal son. Older, wiser — but still with goals in his boots and a point to prove.
The fans didn’t just welcome him back — they roared. It was like seeing your big brother come home from war. The feeling that someone who understood the shirt — really understood it — was back where he belonged.
And guess what? He picked up right where he left off.
Despite being in his thirties — an age where most forwards start looking longingly at the coaching bench — Ernie rolled back the years. He broke Barnsley’s all-time scoring record and cemented a legacy that remains unchallenged to this day. Just imagine it — over a decade on from his debut, still bossing it in the mid-‘30s, outfoxing younger defenders who’d grown up hearing his name in headlines.
And he still had that big-game temperament. In 1935, in a 3-3 thriller against his former club Leicester City, Ernie bagged a hat-trick. Oakwell was bouncing. It was poetic — the lad they’d sold was now scoring against the team they sold him to. Football karma at its finest.
Across his two spells with the club, Ernie Hine notched up 131 league goals in 237 appearances — and that's not including cup matches. It’s the kind of record that makes modern players look like they’re on work experience. He didn’t just score — he scored for us.
Beyond the Pitch
When the boots finally came off in 1938, Ernie didn’t just slope off into the sunset. No chance. He became a coach at the club in 1939, staying close to the pitch that had defined his life. He was more than a legend — he was a lifer. A man whose footballing soul was stitched into the red fabric of Barnsley.
And he never sought attention. No autobiographies, no pundit chairs, no big testimonials. Just a quiet pride and a place in the hearts of everyone who ever watched him play or heard the stories.
The Final Word
Ernie Hine isn’t just Barnsley’s greatest goalscorer — he’s the very idea of what a Barnsley player should be. Local. Loyal. Lethal. He came through the smoke and grime of early 20th-century Yorkshire, turned Oakwell into his playground, and gave generations of Reds fans something to shout about.
In a world of flash-in-the-pan forwards and journeymen with one good season, Hine stands apart — a true footballer, a true Red, and a true legend.
He didn’t just score goals. He built memories, lifted hearts, and gave this town something to believe in.
Ernie Hine: one of our own, always.
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