We never know when we might need a blood transfusion, so we should be grateful to people like David Haswell, says Sharon Griffiths.

GEORGE Best needed 40 pints... Simon Weston probably needed a tanker full... and even my old mum had half a gallon when she got her new knees.

Blood, that is.

Whether it's a road accident, a transplant, an ongoing disorder or a dramatic haemorrhage after childbirth, an awful lot of us will one day need topping up with someone else's blood.

Which is why we should be grateful to people like David Haswell.

David, 62, from Northallerton, has just given his 75th pint of blood. If one pint is a whole armful, than David's given enough for about eight adults and a toddler. And enough to keep the Friarage Hospital - where he usually makes his donation - going for more than a week.

"It's the easiest thing in the world," he says, planning to go on until the age limit of 70, when he should have given 97 pints. There is a small, select group of people who have given well over 100 pints in their time.

"I think they're all heroes," says David's wife Michelle, a former nurse.

"There's many a unit of blood I've put up for patients, suffering from all sorts of debilitating conditions, all of whom might have been looking at an early death without blood donors. Yet donors just perform this public service with no reward and no fuss at all.

"We owe them a huge communal debt as none of us knows when we might need blood and we just assume it's going to be there."

Just ask Gary Lineker, Denise Welch, Linda Robson or Bill Roach...

Gary's son had leukaemia, Denise's son had a bowel disorder, Linda Robson had major surgery and William Roach had a perforated ulcer - and all of them needed massive amounts of blood in the process. Blood that was there thanks to donors.

David started giving 40 years ago when he worked at Barkers in Northallerton - just two of them out of a staff of 50 - and continued all the time he worked at County Hall, at first twice a year, now three times.

And no, it doesn't hurt.

"Though it's always funny to see who gets nervous. Little old ladies stick their arms out with no fuss at all, but then strapping young lads go all peculiar."

Now he's retired and can go at quiet times, the whole procedure takes about half an hour - a quick blood test, then the actual donation, a cup of tea and home.

The Friarage needs 61 pints a week. In the region as a whole, hospitals need 1,000 pints a day, all organised from the centre in Newcastle, which can shift supplies quickly to where they are needed.

"Our donors are fantastic," said the lady from the National Blood Service, "but as many of our regulars are older, we need more people to come along."

There are always tricky times: in the summer a lot of regulars are on holiday, in winter they might have colds or flu.

The standard of blood donated must be supremely high. One of the bars to giving is if you have had a recent body piercing or tattoo, which can rule out lot of young blood.

Some countries pay people for giving blood. Student friends of mine subsidised their travels by selling blood in foreign parts. But David is horrified at the thought.

"If you start paying people for giving blood then you'd have to start charging people for receiving it and that seems to me to be immoral. Absolutely not.

"It's something we can do so easily and I'm just glad I am able to."