I first met Don when he captained York first XV and my dad, Dennis, captained York ‘A’ XV. Later, when I stared playing for the Colts, I came across him again after a game in Scarborough when Don rolled up in his battlebus – a Morris Minor Traveller complete with a mattress and curtains in the back! He took half a dozen of us guache young innocents on a tour of the more salubrious pubs of the resort – such a succcesful evening’s entainment the bus home left us behind and we all had to cram into the battlebus. Later, I had a few glorious years with the Unicorns, a team where you could rub shoulder with county players enjoying an afternoon out, top Rugby League players under assumed names – and itinerant dog walkers and allotment holders cajoled into pulling on the light blue shirt to make up the numbers. That was Don all over – charming, persuasive and always good company. He was a man it was difficult to fall out with – especially when enjoying a “late taste” with him after hours in the Cock and Bottle. The stories about the man are legion – and most with more than a grain of truth! A true giant of a man and sorely missed.