AS a schoolgirl of tender years, I confided in my dad, with whom I attended football matches, that I was intensely in love (from afar) with Jimmy Rudd (the York City inside forward from 1947-1949).
Sometimes my uncool, nail-biting uncle (by marriage) Edwin came along... 'heading the ball' - that sort of thing.
I don't know what my dad would say about today's footballers.
The players of yesteryear seemed happy sporting short back and sides hairstyles and well-washed, sometimes frayed, kits.
Mind you, I still follow "the beautiful game" with interest, but can't help wondering what happened to Jimmy?
Margaret Lawson,
Aldborough House,
The Groves,
York.
Updated: 11:11 Friday, June 25, 2004
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