We'll skip the 1975 trip, which was memorable mainly for not winning promotion, and being given a good seeing-to by the famous West Midlands Constabulary, and go to the first game of the 1982-83 season.

This was always going to be a challenge - they were, after all, Aston Villa, recent winners of the European Cup, and boasted players such as Withe, Mortimer, and Shaw, but we were Sunderland boys, and we had Wink, and he has a cousin called Gordon Cowans, who sorted out a VIP trip for us. He even provided some beer for us at his house on the way down, a tour of the dressing rooms, and a walk on the pitch with the players. This was in the days when the pre-match warm -up consisted of a stroll round the grass, not some poncy, synchronised gymnastic routine. This enabled us to watch the red'n'white army massing on the terraces, and give a knowing wave to those who were looking at us with that " I know him - who the hell is he?" expression on their faces. If only they knew - well they do now.

Into the poshest seats in the ground, and twenty minutes in, Mr Cowans relinquishes his role as genial host, and puts the Villa one up. Half time refreshments, and a much improved performance from the Lads saw West, McCoist, and Pickering give us a bit of a surprise away win at one of the title favourites.

The players' lounge was a good place to be , and I couldn't believe that I was engaged in post-match banter with the likes of the Lord Rowell and Ally Mac- and more importantly, a free bar. I impressively beat Tony Morley in a sprint for the last sausage roll, and gave a passable impersonation of a knowledgeable hanger-on during a couple of hours of panic drinking which almost won me my first England cap for ale-quaffing. And it made me sleep all the way home. Top day - cheers, Gordon!