We refer to some of them as "Rock Apes". The alpha male bloke-men who had beards when they were 12 and became fully grown over the summer holidays. They would return to school after the long hot summer and terrorise the neighbourhood of the playground. They could be tracked by the lines of spit they left behind them.
One such creature - Baz was his name - would assault our underdeveloped selves with the challenge
"Every spice on yer!" which meant - give me all your sweets.
If you refused - as I always did being protective of my polos, he would, like some ancient demagogue, give you a magnanimous choice - 50 biffs or a crusty.
50 biffs were 50 arm punches from this drooling silverback. A crusty was a knuckle-down punch on the top of the head. Few could stand more than 15 biffs before collapsing in agony upon the tarmac yard. A crusty downed even the most stalward detractor. I still have dints.
So, yes, out there in the wilds of Yorkshire, stalk knuckle draggers with pockets full of sweeties.
League is still better than union, but down here in the Midlands, I don't get much chance to watch owt else.