I have only recently returned from spending Christmas and the New Year on a Caribbean cruise. As a family we decided to try it, because it would be a different way of spending the festive season.

Well we ate and drank like it was going out of fashion and I watched endless games of Premiership football in the bar, so to be honest it was like every other Christmas we had!

The one consolation to coming home to the freezing weather was learning that my team Brislington Reserves had won twice in my absence.

I know it's a cliche, but as the manager of the team, it's the best Christmas present, although the socks I received from a member of my family came a close second.

On a more sombre note, I was upset to hear of the death of Cecil Cook – the father of Bob, who has been a pal of mine for numerous years.

Bob told me how his dad enjoyed many seasons playing on the Downs, during his younger days.

To me Cecil was the passionate Highridge United supporter who wasn't frightened to voice his opinions.

Cecil was instantly recognised by his shock of white hair. I am sure that when Cecil pulled up in his green Skoda car, and the referee that day spotted him, they knew it was going to be an eventful afternoon.

I have fond memories of Cecil and his good friend Colin Veale, who also sadly passed away several years ago, walking up and down the touchline together.

They would shout and holler throughout the match, but it was all laced with good natured humour – great football characters the pair of them.

Of course, Cecil took great pride in watching his son Bob playing at centre forward. Bob was a big strong target man throughout his playing days.

I have to say that his first touch wasn't the best, but usually after about eight or nine attempts he did get the ball under control!

Bob had a knack of scoring goals from different parts of his anatomy, they would go in off his back, shoulder, knee or shins.

He could never be faulted though for his commitment or effort he put in week in, week out.

Bob would be drenched with sweat every Saturday afternoon. Mind you he started sweating just pulling his socks on!

I only knew Cecil from afar, but I know he will certainly be missed by the local football fraternity.

However, the deepest sense of loss is obviously being felt by his immediate family, and my thoughts go out to them at this sad time.