If not exactly born with a silver spoon in his mouth, Ken Ridden's arrival merited a silver rattle - with an ivory handle at that - from the Mayor of West Hartlepool. It was Silver Jubilee Day, 1935.
The day after his 69th birthday he was back in the North-East at the weekend though - as might be expected from one of the world's top figures in football refereeing - very much a whistle stop tour.
This week he's off for meetings, coaching and referee assessment in Germany, home in time for the FA Cup final, then flies back to Germany for the European Under 21 championships and straight to Portugal until July. The much stamped passport still bears the birthplace "West Hartlepool."
"My daughter asked me if I realised I'd be away from home for 43 days without a break. I said it was much better than sitting round the house feeling sorry for myself."
His wife died in 2001. Last year he himself was diagnosed with prostate cancer but, thanks to revolutionary treatment, is already down to six monthly check-ups and looks thoroughly chipper.
"Just the other day someone rang to ask me to have a look at a referee in Kuwait, but I just can't find the time," he says. "Besides, the last time I was out there, the Gulf War started."
He admits the irony, however, that while his expertise is in demand worldwide, recent FA rules mean that even at Northern League level, a referee assessor - however able - must retire at 65.
"To be honest I think it's a bit crackers to waste all that experience. Some people are old at 50 and others are refereeing, never mind assessing, into their 70s. It's a terrible waste."
In the Hartlepool Cadets of Temperance League he kept goal for the Guild of Abstaining Youths, known in days of innocence as the Gays - "I'm still trying to live that down" - though his CV notes that he left after discovering the more spiritual joys of whisky.
In the Hartlepool Church League youth section he earned 3/6d a match as a referee, rising to 5/6d in the senior division, worked up through the Northern League to become a Football League referee and from 1992-2000 was the FA's director of refereeing and a member of FIFA's international board.
Two years ago he received UEFA's Ruby Order of Merit, alongside a feller called Beckenbauer.
"I've enjoyed every moment but I think referees had it easier in my day, there weren't so many challenges to their authority."
We'd last meet in February 2000 when he was probably the only person at Lancaster Gate (as then it was) without a computer on his desk. Though for three years the computer bought for their 40th wedding anniversary was used only by the couple's grandchildren, he is now a born again technophile.
"It's wonderful," he insists, "I couldn't be part of the European and international scene with it."
He lives in Surrey - "I suppose I'm a southern softie now, it's so much warmer down there" - was back for his presentation at Durham FA's annual dinner in West Auckland on Friday evening.
"There are still no better people in the world than up here and I was delighted that we could do it up here. The only problem, in my 70th year, was how on earth to fit it in.
"It's flattering, really quite remarkable that people still want me. I've had my health scare and I hope I'm over it; more than ever, I intend to live life to the full."
Never off the road - analogies may be inserted to taste - the column headed from West Auckland to Crook Town FC, where Peter Beardsley addressed a sportsmen's evening and three survivors from Town's 1954 Amateur Cup winning side were reunited 50 years after the event.
Sadly, those lads haven't been too clever, either.
Jimmy McMillan, the only man to achieve four Amateur Cup winners' medals, had a quadruple heart bypass eight years ago and has eye problems after a stroke; left back Bert Steward, down from Annfield Plain, has had three strokes; centre half and captain Bobby Davison is nearly blind, gets away badly but still talks for England, nonetheless.
They remained in great good form - Bert Steward still in awe of Jimmy Mac, the flying outside left.
"For me playing for Crook Town was the pinnacle, the highest thing I could have done in football, but I still wasn't fit to lace up Jimmy McMillan's boots.
"He was just tremendous, tore defences to bits. Ask them at Bishop Auckland."
Like big Bobby Davison, however, Jimmy won just one amateur international cap, though Crook were allowed to spend £24 on a tea set and tray when he won his fourth medal and the FA also sent him a silver watch in 1956.
"I was quite pleased until I discovered it wasn't for me but for Bill McGarry," he recalled.
What did he do with it? "Sent it back, of course."
Crook, memorably hospitable, gave each of them a salver and then raided the dressing room for next season's amber shirts - they'll need another 3, 5 and 11 before August.
"They're the men who put this club on the map," said Stephen Buddle, the chairman. "It was the very least that we could do."
For Peter Beardsley, as for others in the Toon Army, it was something of a black arm band night after the events in Marseilles 24 hours earlier.
"How are we going to sort out the manager?" someone asked.
"What do you mean," said Pedro, "kneecap him?"
He couldn't agree with Sir Bobby, however, that the team had done Newcastle proud. "We were that poor, we were lucky to score nought."
What have Sunderland manager Mick McCarthy and fellow sport players Andrew Flintoff, Geoff Boycott, Elena Baltacha, Seve Ballesteros and James Cracknell in common? According to a feature in one of the Sunday broadsheets, they all do Pilates (no connection, apparently, to Pontius.)
And finally...
THE member of Sunderland's 1973 FA Cup winning team who reached the fifth round with Blyth Spartans five years later (Backtrack, May 7) was Ron Guthrie.
Peter Beardsley, meanwhile, asked his Crook audience the identity of the only man to have played for seven current Premiership clubs. When he himself was asked - "it shows how thick I am" - he hadn't known either.
Backtrack readers can discover the answer on Friday.
Published: 11/05/2004
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