SERGIO Parisse may or may not have insulted referee Laurent Cardona while playing for his club Stade Francais last weekend - but when it comes to talking to the man in charge during matches, he talks loudest and longest.

The 30-day ban slapped on Italy's talismanic number eight is tough, and rightly so.

Parisse has protested his innocence, but the fact is, a French rugby disciplinary panel has upheld his sending off by Mr Cardona.

In doing so, it has reasserted the primacy of the game's most precious asset - that what the ref says, goes, and woe betide any hulking forward or prancing back who has the temerity to get uppity about it.

I find it incredibly heartening that the game of rugby, from the international stage to the parks pitch remains firmly rooted in a tradition of courtesy to, and acknowledgement of, the referee as the sole arbiter of right and wrong.

At a full-blooded, feisty youth XV encounter in Gwent last Saturday afternoon, it was good to hear hot-blooded teenagers who, intent on giving no quarter to their opponents, addressed the referee as "sir" when they wished to query a decision, or ask about time remaining, or call his attention to an injured teammate.

This remains almost invariably the case up through the ranks of the game, such respect demonstrated by top teams in televised games, often where there is much at stake in terms of league position or continuing in a cup competition.

Contrast this with football, where surrounding the referee at every possible opportunity appears to be becoming the norm, and where players regularly brandish imaginary yellow or red cards in the match official's face in an attempt to influence a decision.

This of course, is a common theme from the top to the bottom of the adult game, and while the younger age groups do not exhibit such petulance, it is fair to say that the use of the word "sir" is pretty much non-existent, and on-pitch shows of dissent at decisions are not uncommon.

Of course, the two sports have different histories and traditions, and I am not living in hope of a sea-change in the way footballers act toward referees.

It might happen one day that football's rulemakers decide that in future only captains can approach the referee, as in rugby. But if they do, I would be forced to consume generous portions of one of my hats, probably my favourite winter dog-walking beanie.

No, let's cast football adrift in its own sea of disciplinary shortcomings.

Rugby has managed to hold onto the concept of on-field respect for referees and their decisions, even in the professional era, and for that its lawmakers should be heartily applauded.

It punishes wrongdoers with hefty bans after matches and their teams during them by moving penalties ten metres forward. Both measures can have calamitous consequences, particularly in tight encounters where every point counts.

Watch Parisse when Stade Francais and Italy are on the television and, without appearing overbearing, he is constantly in the referee's face, questioning who? why? where? how?

Captains are able to ask questions, but Parisse is more in the face of the referee than almost any others.

Clearly Mr Cardona heard something he took offence to, and acted accordingly.

Perhaps sulky Sergio can spend the next 30 days pondering the consequences of his words, and tone them down when he returns to action.

The day the music died I HAVE now officially entered the ranks of the ignorant when it comes to pop music.

However much I rant and rave over what I perceive to be the vast reservoir of rubbish in the charts these days, I normally at least have an idea about who an artist is, or what a particular group sounds like.

But I am afraid I have no idea who Ben Howard is, or what he sounds like.

Mr Howard won the 'British breakthrough act' Brit Award earlier this week.

Never heard of him.

I am led to believe he is a singer-songwriter, and though popular music is awash with singer songwriters of varied but largely uninspiring provenance, he has slipped under my radar.

All I can say about him is that he appears from his publicity photos to be unnervingly clean cut. I suspect love - and all its trials and tribulations - features heavily in his songs, but alas, I have not heard one.

And neither do I wish to. It is just unnerving that I've 'missed' him as he rose toward the top of the pile. Sadly, I suspect he is merely the first of many 'misses'.