Every morning, seven-year-old Noah Maidens walks past the framed Hartlepool United shirt worn by his uncle at the top of the stairs and says, 'Hiya Mick'.

Noah never got to meet his uncle. Ten years ago this week, Michael Maidens was killed in a car crash. He was 20 years old. The midfielder had played 31 times for the then-League One club.

On that fateful Friday night, Michael was a passenger in a car which lost control and collided with a metal post near Lazenby, Teesside. He died at the scene.

Today, there is a blue-and-white Hartlepool scarf wrapped around the post. It is one of hundreds which were tied to the gates outside of Victoria Park in the days after his death.

Every birthday, every anniversary and every Christmas, his mum and dad, Heather and Doug, take one of those scarves to the place where their son died.

The pain is the same but, with the passing of a decade, the feeling of regret grows. Michael would have turned 30 in May.

'That's the hard part, you just don't know what might have been,' says Heather. 'All of his friends, they've got little children now. His girlfriend, Gemma, still keeps in touch. She's got a little girl. You do wonder, what if? Would he have children? Where would he be playing now?'

The Maidens family will be at Victoria Park on Saturday where a tribute is planned. Michael's parents, both 65, will be joined by his brothers, Gareth, 43, and Philip, 42, and his nephews and nieces, Lydia, 16, Noah, seven, Eleanor, seven, and Dominic, five.

Going back to Hartlepool - the club Michael joined at eight and where, aged 18, he scored a wonder goal against Huddersfield - is never easy.

'It's nice to go, the club have been brilliant with us, but sometimes, watching the young lads play, it takes you back,' says Heather.

'You can still imagine him there, especially if there is someone with the same haircut, little things like that. They're in the same strip, it's so easy to get carried away and think of what might have been.'

There are smiles as they recall his full debut at Blackpool; the late news of a surprise start, jumping in the car and making it in time for kick-off.

What did that feel like, seeing their boy, the professional footballer, realising his dream? Doug doesn't answer. He clenches his fist and pumps his heart, twice.

His eyes are full. Heather finds the words. 'It's unbelievable,' she says. 'You're sitting there thinking, 'Yeah, that's my bairn out there'.' 'It's the best feeling in the world,' Doug adds.

It was 7.30pm on Friday, October 19, 2007 when Michael left the family home in Skelton to join a convoy of cars travelling to Yarm Fair.

'He was just going out the door,' starts Doug, 'and he said…' Heather takes over. 'See you mum, love you,' she says.

'I went out, like I always did on a Friday,' says Doug. 'I was just sitting with my mate having a beer in the cricket club when he got up and disappeared. He came back and said, 'We've got to go'. He wouldn't tell me at first. Then he said, 'It's Mike'. Straight away, I knew.'

Heather had dropped her husband off and was not long home when the phone rang. 'It was his girlfriend, she was hysterical, 'Mick's had an accident, they're saying he's dead',' says Heather. Her voice wavers. Even now, those words feel raw.

'I said, 'No Gemma, there's no way, he's only just left'. I just couldn't believe it was true. I kept ringing his phone, ringing and ringing. Then I started ringing around the lads. One of their mums answered. She said, 'You've got to get Doug home', but she just wouldn't tell me. That was when I knew.'

For the next few hours they waited for news, comforted by neighbours. The police were there but could not give them answers. Not yet. Heather rang around all of the hospitals. Nothing. Then came confirmation. Is it even possible to put that feeling into words?

'Horrendous,' says Doug. 'Absolutely horrendous. I couldn't talk. My throat was dry. Everything, gone.'

'You just go numb. You can't walk,' says Heather. 'I wish it was me who had gone. That's how you feel.'

Heather and Doug are in the process of moving house. They are moving back to Saltburn, where Michael grew up. The family plumbing business is based here and the flat above is where we meet. The back lane behind the shop is where Michael played football after school every night. They had always promised him they would return. There are happy memories here.

'He'd be in the lane for hours,' says Doug, 'waiting for me to finish work. He'd be just kicking the ball against the wall. It would bounce back at all angles off those cobbles, but that's where he got his first touch from. There was always something about him, he had a great touch.

'He was a lovely build for a footballer, always had a good set of legs and was a nice size. He had ability as well, a good brain. At around 12 I realised he had a real chance of making it. He just got better and better. Who knows where he would have got to.'

On the table in front of us are photos of Michael; with his mum and dad, his brothers, his friends, his team-mates.

Elsewhere, but still untouched, is a box with six remembrance books, all of the condolence cards and a DVD tribute made by a supporter. Have they ever sat down together and went through all of it? Heather says they can't can't do it.'

I've got about 15 minutes into the DVD, and that's it,' says Doug. 'We go to these charity events but when they show the footage of his goal, with the music, that's when it hits you. You can have moments like that, you just fall to pieces.'

Heather says: 'After the accident, every morning, I would just sit and watch an interview he did, listening to that and watching the goal, every morning.'

The goal. Collecting the ball 30 yards out, he takes one touch for control and one to send it towards the far corner.

'We were stood right behind it,' says Doug. 'It started out towards the corner flag but my, it bent some, four yards and just inside the post.

'There had been a guy earlier behind us, 'Bloody Maidens'. I turned around, 'Was that alright for you, pal?'.

'Poor lad, his legs went to jelly when scored he told us later, he didn't know what to do. I think it was Ritchie Humphreys jumped on his back, he was always good with him.

'He won Goal of the Season and collected the prize from Jeff Stelling at the awards night - he was terrified.'

Talk to those who knew him and you understand why. He was softly spoken, gentle. There is one story of him leaving Victoria Park and giving his boots to a young fan.

'That's what he was like,' says Doug. 'Yeah, but we had to give him the money to get some more,' says Heather, smiling.

'He loved his boots - we've still got a bagful of them. He loved his haircuts and clothes as well. 'Dress to impress' he used to tell me. He loved his music. We used to dance around on the top of the stairs, me and our Mick.'

Doug adds: 'He was a good lad. Laid back. Nothing bothered him. I remember I got angry about the squad numbers. He was No 25. He said, 'Dad, it's just a number, I'm still going to get there'.'

He did make it. On his headstone it says 'footballer'. It is because of what he achieved on the pitch that his legacy lives on.

There is a Maidens Lounge at Victoria Park and supporters still applaud in the 25th minute of the match closest to his passing. His nieces and nephews wear shirts with his name and number on the back.

There was a tribute to Michael written by a young Hartlepool fan shortly after his death. Doug has read it once. He has tried several times since, but can only get so far. He has it with him now. It finishes with the words, 'his brief life was not wasted'.

'That makes you proud,' his mum and dad agree. 'We're lucky that we have these nice memories and the memory of him lives on. We're lucky that he is our son.'