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