THERE is nothing quite like having an intimate moment with your heroes.
And it was so unexpected.
I have been an obsessive fan of Brighton and Hove Albion since I was a small child and watched many victories and defeats over those years.
My baptism as an 11-year-old was standing in the North Stand at the Goldstone Ground on a sunny Saturday in September 1967 to see this team in blue and white beat Bury 1-0, with a goal from my soon-to-be hero, Kit Napier.
The chanting, bustle and atmosphere immersed me. I was hooked and soon queuing after training sessions to obtain the autographs of these footballing gladiators: Charlie Livesey, Norman Gall, Wally Gould, Nobby Lawton and of course Christopher Napier.
I can still smell the Bovril and cigarette soaked air of my first evening game one year later and taste the pride and disappointment of the 1983 FA Cup Final.
So I cheered on my heroes from the legendary Peter Ward to icons such as Brian Horton, Steve Foster, Bobby Zamora and Jimmy Case.
Yes, Brighton and Hove Albion are, and have always been, an integral part of my life.
But nothing prepared me for that moment on the M1 motorway, on Friday 28th March 2008.
My Aunt Val had died suddenly, and as next-of-kin I had driven to her home in North London to sort out her affairs. Her death was unexpected and I guess my mind was focussed on getting everything right.
After dealing formalities with her solicitor and the funeral celebrant I hopped into my car to make the long journey back to my home in North Wales.
I stopped at the M1 Toddington Services, just north of Luton, for petrol, a coffee and a toilet break.
I was vaguely aware of a smart coach pulling in next to me in the car park.
The loo called first, so I made my way to the gents. I stood by the urinal trough and was just about to relieve myself when more than a dozen guys in dark blue tracksuits walked in.
They assembled in various positions to answer the call of nature. As I started to pee I looked up at the guy next to me. He had a Brighton and Hove Albion badge on his tracksuit top. I silently gasped and looked along at the rest of the guys… it was the entire Brighton first team squad.
That was the OMG moment and I got instant water retention.
I was peeing with my heroes… or in my case not! I had to stop looking or they might get the wrong impression!
As I exited the service station toilets I turned to the player next to me – our full back Andrew Whing – and politely asked: “What are you guys doing in Luton?”
“We are on our way to Leeds, we play them tomorrow,” was the reply.
“Do we?” I answered stupidly, still desperate for a wee.