Todd's law

EYES fine, judgement sound, perhaps not quite so sharp over 50 yards, George Todd – the oldest former Football League referee – is 100 today.

The postman will doubtless be busy. Most weeks George particularly looks forward to Saturday when the seven-day documentation arrives from Durham FA, of which he remains a vice-president, at the care home where he lives in Darlington.

“It’s really very good of them to remember, it helps me to keep in touch,” says George.

In touch with the bad lads?

“Well, yes, I’m afraid there are always quite a lot of those, but there were one or two in my day, as well.”

There was also the cautionary tale.

An irate female spectator chased him with her umbrella though, unfortunately, he can’t quite remember why.

He has also been president of the National Operatic and Dramatic Association (NODA), was simultaneously chairman of Darlington Operatic Society and of the town’s Referees’ Society, has been a Freemason for more than 60 years, and only recently stopped attending gatherings.

He still reads The Northern Echo, still watches football in his room, worries about trial by television. In his day, says George – and remembers it very well – the only cameras at a football ground might be those given out to the bairns by the Echo’s Nig-Nog Club.

“We didn’t have yellow cards back then, didn’t need them. They’re for television, too. You just told players and mostly they listened. It’s easy to criticise when you have all these TV replays, but the referee has a split second. It’s not really fair on him, is it?”

In his Football League days, he earned five guineas a match and maybe a glass of whisky at half-time.

Now the top men are full-time, might pull in more than £1,000. It’s not bad for 90 minutes work, says George.

“The game’s very different now, much too much about money. I don’t think that just applies to referees; there are referees who seem too keen on the money side, too.”

As recently as his 95th birthday, held in the Masonic Hall, he was living independently in Darlington. In his day, he’d said, sheltered accommodation was something you had when waiting for a bus.

“They look after me very well, but it gets quite lonely. I’d rather not be here, of course, but I’m quite an old man. I don’t suppose there’s too much demand for 100-year-old referees.”

LOVELY man, by no means as black as they’re painted, Georgre Todd was born and raised in Darlington, played Northern League football for Spennymoor United and for Ferryhill, has a Ferryhill Nursing Cup winner’s medal among a personal collection on his wall. It was in 1943 that someone suggested he try refereeing – “I’d played, it didn’t mean I knew the rules” – and he was invited to meet someone from Durham FA in the upstairs room of the Golden Cock.

They chatted for half-an-hour and George was told he’d passed, though 70 years later he’s still unsure what it was he passed, or how. A local league official waited outside, anxious to offer him a game that Saturday – among the problems that the only kit he had was a pair of elderly boots.

His wife, Peggy, married on the same day that Edward married Mrs Simpson – and by a Darlington vicar, too – insisted that they weren’t going to waste precious clothing coupons on a referee’s outfit.

Eventually, she found an old pair of grey flannels, cut them off at the knee and dyed them. At work, someone offered him an old black cycling jacket. “That was my referee’s kit for long enough,” he recalls.

His progress was rapid, from Class 3 to Class 1 in successive seasons.

After the war he was appointed to the North Eastern League, soon afterwards became a Central League referee and Football League linesman and by 1949, whistle happy, was in the Football League middle.

“I seemed to get quite a lot of games at Blackpool, always enjoyed that,” he recalls. “The great Stan Matthews played for them, nice man.”

Matthews was also in the Football League side that in March 1950 met the Scottish League at Ayresome Park, Middlesbrough, alongside the likes of Alf Ramsey, Stan Mortenson, Bert Williams and local favourite Wilf Mannion.

George was on one line, Herbert Trenholm – perhaps even better remembered as a long-serving secretary of the NYSD cricket league – on the other.

England won 3-1, goals from Mannion, Mortenson and Eddie Baily of Charlton Athletic. “I was only a linesman, but I was probably better than the game was,” remembers George, a view with which the Echo’s man at the match would probably have agreed.

“No football reputations were built on this display,” wrote Mandale.

“England were the better of two unimpressive teams.”

After two more seasons, however, George was returned to the North Eastern League. “I think I must have had a couple of bad reports from clubs. They mattered a lot,” he supposes. Two years after that, still just 12 years after his debut in sawnoff flannels, he blew his final whistle.

HE’D become chief draughtsman at the Rolling Mills, whose cricket team he also captained, was clerk of works on the new Longfield Stadium in 1952, was never much of a singer – “Not good enough for the Operatics, anyway” – but became the Darlington society’s property master.

High office with NODA took him to shows throughout the country.

Peggy, an accomplished actress to whom he was married for 62 years, often accompanied him. He was also a Durham FA Council member for 17 years. His souvenirs include everything from his air raid warden’s certificate to their diamond wedding telegram from the Queen.

Today, probably, there’ll be another, and a family tea at a posh hotel.

“I’d rather be starting all over again, rather not spend so much time on my own, but I have to get on with it,” says George. “If I die tomorrow, I can’t complain, can I?”

Solitude also gives him time to worry about the Quakers, whom he still supports. “I would be very pleased if they survived, but I have my doubts. They’ve lived on a knife edge for so long.

“One day everything seems fine again and then half an hour later, they’re back in trouble. I wouldn’t put any money on them.”

This Saturday there’s an open house party, 2-4pm, at the Riverside View Care Home – Hutton Avenue, Darlington DH1 2AQ – where he lives. The little black book long redundant, all would be most welcome.