Even in Tow Law they reckoned it was bad out, which, translated, means that it was utterly monstrous. You could hardly see the snow for the fog.

The club secretary, who lives in Darlington, had struggled as far as West Auckland before doing a U-turn of which recent governments would have been proud. The number one bus was made of sterner stuff: it was the annual presentation night, there were hands to shake.

That the players were there in numbers may not so much have been that everyone was a winner - though there were 36 awards - as that they had lost 4-0 at Chester-le-Street two days previously and had been summoned to discuss the error of their ways.

The phrase is euphemistic. Dr Forster, the team manager, is not the quietest man in the Albany Northern League, though on nights like last Thursday a voice like a foghorn could have been a distinct, if not life saving, advantage.

"They'll not lose fower-nowt again," someone muttered, darkly.

Finally released from dressing room dressing-down, the team - to maintain the meteorological metaphor - arrived with faces like thunder, lightening only when Barry Poskett, the goalkeeper, won the Cinderella award.

Cinderella, explained Mr Charlie Donaghy who organises these things with much ingenuity, had run away from the ball. Mr Poskett had correctly identified an indirect free kick, removed himself from the firing line and let the ball sail, unrewarded, into the net.

Doc Forster, who had failed to notice the upraised arm, suffered a minor coronary episode (as the medics tend to say) before indirectly apologising.

Other awards were of a similarly abstruse nature. The evening, suggested club chairman John Flynn - a good Catholic boy - should have been dedicated to St Jude the Obscure.

(St Jude, an apostle so suffixed because next to nothing has ever been discovered about him, has latterly become the Patron Saint of Hopeless Cases. The column is thinking of adopting him.)

So it was, at any rate, that striker Nigel Bolton won the Nat Lofthouse award, Eric McKimm - who washes the kit - the Widow Twanky award and David Craggs the Naughty but Nice award. He sells cream cakes, apparently.

The league chairman, until recently on a restricted diet of warfarin and Coke, was given Roland's award.

Something to do with rats, the rest yet more greatly convoluted, though the Dearly Departed Award went to Agnes McCormick for the excellence of her funeral teas when the clubhouse occasion mournfully demands it.

The principal awards went to George Hindmoor (club member), Jack Craggs (supporter), Harry Hodgson (outstanding service since 1961) and to Scott Nicholson, player of the year by the length of the Very High Street and the first Tow Law resident for 20 years to represent the Lawyers.

Scott, local lad made good, looked as happy as a pig in clarts, but he hadn't 30-odd miles to wend homewards. A good bad night, nonetheless.

Obscure as ever, Friday's column recorded that the leading scorer for Marlow Town - whom Marske United visit in the FA Carlsberg Vase on Saturday - was a certain Julius Caesar.

It was not, presumably, the same Julius Caesar who bowled for Surrey and on overseas trips wept if required to sleep alone, nor the Julius Caesar who in 1858 was an umpire in the match between Notts and the Combined Counties at Stockton.

An accident before the match meant that Jonathan Joy from Knaresborough, who had represented both Durham and Yorkshire and had been named in the Combined Counties side, was required to stand at the other end.

Notts batted last, reached 51 for three in their second innings and needed just one to win when, at 3pm, Joy suddenly declared the pitch unfit and the match drawn. Old Julius remonstrated in vain; it was a battle lost.

The story is told in Jack Bannister's book on Durham cricket. "Modern problems such as ball tampering, sledging and open dissent are put into perspective," he says, "by an incident in 1858."

Quiet all year, John Briggs in Darlington not only remembered the Julius Caesar connection - Julius, said a report of the Stockton match abandonment, was "of contrary opinion" - but has found out more on a website called Godalming's Famous Sons and Daughters.

Julius apart - he insisted on his first name in the scorebook - they include Admiral Sir John Balchin, Gertrude Jekyll ("world renowned artist, craftswoman and gardener") and John George Phillips, who was the wireless operator on the Titanic.

Julius was the seventh child of Benjamin and Ann Caesar, though what they called the others is unrecorded.

He also played for England, went on the first international tour - to North America - in 1859 and, following his retirement, accidentally killed a gamekeeper whilst out shooting and never recovered from the shock.

After "a life stalked by tragic incidents" - say the Godalming deities - he died impoverished in 1878. Julius Caesar was 47.

John Briggs is mistaken, however, in recalling an Arsenal centre forward of the 1980s called Sid Caesar. Wasn't Sid Caesar an actor, or something? The Arsenal man, last heard of at Colchester United, was Augustus Cassius Caesar, known as Gus. He was a rear Gunner, back four, anyway.

Dammit, if Marske United chairman John Hodgson doesn't ring amid all this merriment with an invitation to their Friday night knees up. United's committee and supporters have invited themselves to Bracknell FC, players strictly forbidden. "They'll be tucked in with their Ovaltine," insists Hodgy. More on the fling at Marlow next Tuesday.

Paul Hodgson, sensitive secretary of Spennymoor Boxing Academy, has called, too. Another familiar name has been booked for this year's annual presentation.

Last summer, it may be recalled, the boys caused a little local contention by inviting Mad Frankie Fraser - Arsenal fan and former psychopath - to do the honours. ("He had them riveted to their seats," Hodgy recalled.)

The other side of the law, this year's guest will be Ray Mallon, who probably needs even less introduction than Mad Frankie.

Hodgy and chief coach Robert Ellis were also famously suspended, of course, before winning reinstatement at an ABA appeal.

"To show our gratitude," says Hodgy, "we're going to give him a few tips how to gan on."

F S Trueman is 70 today, auctioning some of the family treasures in London. The occasion has yet again brought forth from the eulogists the story of how Raman Subba Row, fielding to Trueman's bowling near the boundary, let an easy one slip past him for four.

"Sorry about that," muttered Subba Row, "it might have been better if I'd kept my legs together."

"Aye," retorted furious Fred, apocryphally, "it's a pity thi' mother didn't an' all."

Those of us who eat sportsmen's dinners have heard it said of countless participants in several disciplines. Did anyone ever call so drastic a mother's meeting? And if so, was it really festive Fred?

An e-mail from Durham County RFU secretary Chris McLoughlin following last Tuesday's piece on England captain Martin Johnson's Darlington connections.

"Can you discover if he was born in Darlington Memorial whilst his mother was visiting Uncle John, perhaps? This would qualify him to play for England by birth and we could maybe offer him a place in the County Championship in April."

Sorry, Chris. Leicester Royal Infirmary.

Last Friday's column on former Hartlepool United chairman Garry Gibson omitted a crucial dot from his e-mail address. Garry, it may be recalled, is looking to recruit retired professionals to offer Internet advice in their specialist field. The company will be called profitfromexperience.com.