We as referees and linesmen always have banter between ourselves and there's one day that is etched in my memory.

Me and my two colleagues from Hastings arrived at a ground together, had a cup of tea, surveyed the pitch, read our match programmes, had a fag and finally as kick off time got nearer we started to change.

The match referee asked me to get something from the car as he thought he had left something he needed for the game. While I was doing that in the changing room they decided to alter my attire for the game, totally without my knowledge. I came back all innocent and proceeded to get changed.

As referees we have our own way of getting changed, just like the players and the last thing I always put on is my shorts.

The match referee gave us our final instructions and then he rang the bell for us and the teams to leave the dressing rooms and get on to the pitch. I said to the referee that I could not find my shorts, had the other two seen them? No, was the reply. And they hadn't brought any spares.

What in the hell was I going to do now. I was sure I'd packed them but I couldn't find them. The referee was now getting agitated as he wanted to get the game started. I said I couldn't go out on the pitch without any shorts. We also could not get a pair from the home side either that were black.

Finally, the referee owned up to what had happened and suggested that I go to the flag pole outside where I must look for them. There they were, tied to the pole. I quickly retrieved them and got on to the pitch. We kicked off late but it will always be remembered in our circle of refereeing.

On another two occasions, I was officiating ladies' football at Lewes and Chichester. Ladies' football can be interesting for all sorts of reasons.

We had completed the game and I came off the pitch to get changed, have a shower and go home.

Once in the changing room, at Lewes, I got my gear off and I was just about to get into the shower. I couldn't get them to work. No water would come through the shower head no matter how much I tried. I was smelly with oils and cream on, let alone the sweat.

I tried for five minutes to get it working, all to no avail. I decided to wrap a towel round me and seek help. I went out to the corridor and found the lady who was running the home team. I told her of my predicament and she tried to get the shower to work.

Alas, shame, she could not either. There was only one thing she suggested I could do, I could go back to Hastings and have a shower when I got home. I said I was all smelly and I didn't want to. She suggested an alternative.

That I have a shower with the WOMEN! I said that would be fine, so she led me into the ladies' changing room. They were aged from 16 to 35 and she told them either they shut up or cover up, as the match referee would be having a shower with them.

The ladies seemed not to mind at all. I certainly didn't!

I duly had my shower and got dressed, had a cup of tea and went home.

It's amazing what can happen in the world of refereeing.