Uriah Rennie was a big personality when I came into the Premier League. For one thing, he was an imposing figure. Tall, strong and physically very fit. He was an expert in martial arts. He never struggled with the fitness tests.
For another, he was a trailblazer as the first black referee to reach the top flight of English football. That might have brought added pressure, but it didn’t show. He handled it well and didn’t seek to use it to his advantage.
As far as Uriah was concerned, he was always just a referee. Like the rest of us. Although I’ve no doubt his success certainly helped to open doors for other people from ethnic minorities.
He was very popular in the referees’ group. He didn’t say a lot. I always thought of him as a gentle giant. Quiet, but when he spoke everybody listened. He was good to me, always gave me advice in my younger days. Always honest.
One game, I was his fourth official at Manchester City and I’d seen something and informed him over the headset, but he decided not to dismiss the player involved.
When we were looking back in the debrief meeting the following week, he was open and said to the group, ‘No, Mark told me about that, I just decided not to act on it’. Some referees would cover that up. He didn’t. He told the truth.
You try to learn from those around you and I learned from Uriah’s style. I liked how he controlled the game and how he spoke to the players. He always spoke to them in the right way and earned their respect. Players liked him.
He wasn’t one of those who wanted to be centre of attention. He was quite low profile, but everybody knew Uriah Rennie. Not only in English football but he stood out in international football because of what he had achieved.
He also stood out because of his physical stature. And I know from experience that when he hit you, it certainly hurt. He smacked me between the legs once as a joke when I was his fourth official at Elland Road. Just as we were walking out of the dressing room. I couldn’t breathe and it was 10 minutes before I could speak. All I can remember is we were all laughing as we walked out, and people were giving us strange looks.
He liked to have a laugh. The last time I saw him would’ve been at his house in Sheffield after he retired. It’s easy to lose touch when people leave the group, but he got back in touch. I went to see him and we spent an afternoon together, just chatting about the old times. We stayed in touch and sent messages on WhatsApp. I knew he had been having problems with his health, but his death came as a shock.
It’s so sad to lose such an important figure and 65 is no age. Uriah was unique. One of a kind.