Most footy players in this country will remember their first pair of boots.
Mine were my father's. Resembling scarred chunks of charcoal (and that colour) they were high-cuts, genuine leather, sturdy but supple as only well-worn leather is.
There was something symbolic on the Friday night before games, where the ritual filing of sprigs was played out by young men across God's Own. Last Saturday's dry mud was chipped away, but polishing was banned as it wasn't cool to run onto the paddock sporting a shiny pair.
Jerseys came and went, but boots defined you.
This was clearly evidenced when former All Black great Christian Cullen handed his boots to his father after playing his last game in New Zealand for the Wellington Lions in 2003.