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When I started refereeing in Hampshire in mid 90s, things were different.
Arrive at the club in ironed shirt, tie and smart trousers. Blazer preferred.
Shorts - ironed.
Boots - clean, polished and white laces.
Shirt - ironed.
Some assessors were very particular about this. I, naturally followed the norm. Until I was AR for a Very Senior Older Referee. This man, who we'll call Terry just at random and not at all because that was his name, was a grizzled veteran. Stories about him were legion, as was the general admonition that you don't **** with Terry.
Out come my boots. Clean, polished. Start to thread in the white laces. Temperature in room noticeably drops. Arctic. Then this rich burr inquires somewhat pointedly "what the faaarrrkkkkiiinnnggg hell are they? Youm not coming on moy field wearing them"
And that, ladies and gentlemen, was when my rebellion started.
Arrive at the club in ironed shirt, tie and smart trousers. Blazer preferred.
Shorts - ironed.
Boots - clean, polished and white laces.
Shirt - ironed.
Some assessors were very particular about this. I, naturally followed the norm. Until I was AR for a Very Senior Older Referee. This man, who we'll call Terry just at random and not at all because that was his name, was a grizzled veteran. Stories about him were legion, as was the general admonition that you don't **** with Terry.
Out come my boots. Clean, polished. Start to thread in the white laces. Temperature in room noticeably drops. Arctic. Then this rich burr inquires somewhat pointedly "what the faaarrrkkkkiiinnnggg hell are they? Youm not coming on moy field wearing them"
And that, ladies and gentlemen, was when my rebellion started.